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FRANCES MOORE BLAND 







TWILIGHT REVERIES, 



/ 

FRANCES MOORE BLAND. 


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ACME PRESS, 
MORGANTOWN, W. VA„ 
1 ^ 00 . 









THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 
Two CorMts Received 


fUL. 11 1901 


Copyright entry 

/ t . ' 9 ° ' 

CLASS C-^XXe. N«. 


/ Z 9 i+f 

COPY B. 


Copyright 1901 



by 

FRANCES MOORE BLAND. 


• • • • • 







Affectionately Dedicated 
to 

My Mother in Heaven. 





Twilight Reveries. 

a 

BEAOTIFUL SPIRIT. 


It comes to me with the day dawn 
’Mid the wavelets of rosy light, 

At noon with its heated splendors 
Or merged in a dream by night. 

I stop, and linger, and listen— 

No tangible form is there— 

But I know that thy spirit, sweet mother, 
Is hovering near ever fair. 

In vain do I lisp, “Precious loved one, 
But whisper my name and I’ll rest— 
No longer the fearful heart-clamors 
Shall waken the pain in my breast; 
Come close, blessed spirit, come nearer— 



6 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


So empty my arms, and my life— 

Oh take but the burden of silence 
And give me the grief and the strife! 

“Give me the cruel heart-hunger, 

The longing, the waiting, the pain, 

The blackness of night and the waking, 

But whisper my name once again 
As of old, but tell me you love me— 

Let me hear thy sweet voice, and no moan 
Shall startle from death into living 
The wail that the heart calls it own. 

4 ‘So long are the days and the nights, love, 
Since sweetly you fell asleep; 

So voiceless the birds of the woodland— 

So hueless the flowers at my feet— 

So sad the lisping of zephyrs 
As they glide with a sigh ’mid the leaves, 
While all the glories of Summer 

Seem warped into Autumn’s grim sheaves. 

“By the verdure-clad mound on the hill side, 
Watched over by sentinel stars, 

My heart plays me truant and wanders 
Even often from scenes that grief mars. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


7 


And your heart with mine holds sweet con¬ 
verse 

Tho’ silent and still it may lie, 

And I feel on the lap of kind nature 
I could peacefully droop and there die. 

“Oh mother! sweet mother! bright angel! 

Can you see, can you know all I feel? 

Do you note the hot tears as they’re coursing 
From my blinded eyes here as I kneel? 

Can you know that I’m groping in darkness— 
With arms outstretched and beckoning for 
you 

While the shadowy form from me fleeing 
Fades fast into twilight’s dark hue? 

1 ‘Oh beautiful, vanishing spirit # 

With your mystical sky-bright robes, 

And eyes of the softest starlight 
That ever the long night knows! 

Can it be that you know and love us 
And beckon with backward glance, 

That we may follow to realms eternal 
Where the grandest raptures entrance? 

“Can it be, oh sweetest of mothers! 

That your spirit is ever near, 



8 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


And your voice with its olden music 
Is singing us songs most dear? 

Sometimes I think that it must be, 

And in dreams by night do I hear 
Harmonies so sweet and ecstatic 
That they fall with a lull on the ear. 

“We miss you, yes darling, so sadly, 

Life sometimes seems naught but drear 
pain. 

The throne of our kingdom is vacant 
And home a shrine only in name. 

The light has gone out from our hearthstone 
The embers are there—ashen grey— 

So rayless their depth that no brightness 
Steals in at the waking of day, 

% 

“But we would not, sweet mother, oh loved 
one! 

Call you back from your tranquil rest, 

But ‘safe in the arms of Jesus,’ 

Leave you slumbering on His breast. 

He will smooth from your peaceful temples 
The silvery tresses we loved. 

And will hold your dear hands as we held 
them 

Ere called to your bright home above. 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


9 


‘ ‘So rest, angeled darling, rest sweetly— 

No longer life’s trials for thee— 

To the cross of glad joy thou’rt clinging, 
While sorrow’s hard crown is for me. 

Be with us forever, sweet mother— 

When the dark clouds of grief do enfold, 
When life and its burdens are heavy 

And the drear world seems heartless, and 
cold. 

“Still let the beautiful lovelight 
That dwelt ever in your soft eyes, 
Surround us and lighten the pathway 
That leads to the far distant skies. 

Like pilgrims at close of the evening 
We shall kneel, mother dear, at your feet; 
And I know that your voice will be music, 
And your smile inexpressibly sweet.” 




10 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


DESTINY. 


The sweetest songs that thrill the earth with 
gladness 

Are those whose echoes die in sad refrain; 

The fairest skies are those the sunbeams 
brighten 

When Heaven’s tears have flown from bit¬ 
ter pain. 

The noblest prayer that fills the Home Eternal 

Is that the dying martyr whispers low, 

And earth’s despairing cry for kind redemp¬ 
tion 

Is born of Hope’s rekindled after-glow. 

Thus we know that Sorrow’s crown of an¬ 
guish 

Is ever woven with the flowers of joy’s 
decay. 

And close beside the sunset dream of beauty 

Twilight’s darkened shadows waiting lay. 






TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


11 


THE FUTURE. 


When the years have passed In silence— 
Passed away— 

Will we feel their fleeting presence 
As to-day? 

Will the harp-strings that have quivered 
Long ago, 

Thrill again with transient rapture 
Hidden woe? 

Will the morning, breaking grandly 
In the East, 

Be of noon-time’s radiant brilliance 
But the least? 

Will the shadows coming after— 

Softly grey— 

Mourn with tenderest compassion 
Parting day? 

Will the dew drops brightly gleaming 
On the flowers, 

Wake again the verdant beau tv 
Of the bowers? 




12 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Will our hearts be just as happy 
And as gay 

In the future’s dim to-morrow, 

As to-day? 

Will our souls pour forth in anguish 
All their woe, 

As the billows of the ocean 
Come and go? 

Ah! we know not, for the bound’ry line 
Is wide, 

And the sea that flows between 
Hath yet its tide. 

We know not what the future hath 
In store, 

But nearer, ever nearer comes 
Its shore. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


13 


VANISHED JOYS. 


I watched the fading light from out the heav¬ 
ens grow dimmer, 

And the silent stars commence their weary 
wait; 

And once again beheld the softest glimmer 
That, born of fond devotion, cometh late. 

The fires of hope once in my bosom burning, 
Died down in sick’ning embers, ashen grey, 

And all the joy for which my heart was yearn¬ 
ing, 

Upon a shrouded altar lifeless lay. 

I heard a low, sad voice within the distance, 
Send up its plaintive wail unto the night; 

And well I knew that, weary of resistance, 
The lonely bird of darkness wheeled its 
flight. 

4 ‘Kindred spirit of remorse and sorrow! 

Too well I know the tale thou wouldst im¬ 
part; 

Thou, too, hath seen the fond dreams of to¬ 
morrow 




14 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Dragged pulseless from the hearthstone of 
the heart. 

“ The golden anchorage that once securely 

Held fast our tiny crafts on silvered spray, 

Hath sunk beneath the waves too deep and 
surely 

To prove the vessel’s steadfast trust and 
stay. 

‘‘And thus we know, that tossed,and wrecked, 
and stranded, 

Our joys are scattered on the sea of life; 

But safe, some day they must be surely 
landed 

Where billows urge no cruel, reckless 
strife. 

“And tho,’ poor bird ling, thou perchance 
may never 

Wing thy tired flight to that far outward 
shore, 

Still may thy future notes in gladness ever, 

On minor strands make music ever more.” 




TWILIGHT ’KEVEKIES. 


15 


CHRISTMAS EVE. 


Day was o’er and standing silent 
By the darkened window pane, 

Long I watched the falling snow-flakes 
Shrouding hill-top, mead and lane; 
While the shivering, barren branches, 
Shrinking from the Winter’s blast, 
Threw their wild arms in mad frenzy 
’Till the cruel storm should pass. 

Then I closed the shutters softly, 

Drew the crimson curtains warm, 

And within the radiant brightness 
Soon forgot the wintry storm, 

For my heart was filled with gladness, 
Filled with Christmas cheer and love— 
Love that was as free and boundless 
As the hidden stars above. 

And my glad eyes sought the chimney, 
Where our household darlings small, 
Had securely hung each stocking 
That old “Santa” fill them all. 

First, in somber hue, and lengthy, 

Sober Tommy’s stately hose, 



16 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Then another, blue and golden— 

Surely owned by dainty Rose. 

While a third in color matching 
Roguish Johnny’s ruddy face, 

Showed, also, where patient darning 
Kept each pink toe well in place. 

Next in order came our flowret’s— 

Little Bessie’s stockings neat,— 

Most too tiny, one would tell us, 

For a girlie’s fairy feet. 

Then my eyes fell on the last one, 

Small and dainty, short and white— 

Just the baby’s wee, wee hoselet 
Hanging in the Christmas light; 

All, all there and merry laughter 
Ringing in my ears the while, 

Only happy hearts around me, 

Only kisses and a smile. 
****** 
“Why, oh Memory, will you taunt me?— 
Torturous Memory, let me go— 

Why my heart-strings grapple fiercely? 

Why my whole soul fill with woe? 

Don’t you know that next when Christmas 
Hurried ’round with muffled tread, 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


17 


Broken was our household ever, 

And our hearts by anguish fed? 

‘ ‘Don’t you know that when the blossoms 
Fell from off the hawthorn tree 

Gentle Bessie’s sainted spirit 
Passed beyond the crystal sea? 

Did you hear the flight of pinions 
As the angels went along, 

Bearing with them our own darling 
To increase the ’raptured throng? 

‘ ‘Did you see her golden tresses 
Floating in the azure sky? 

And the heavenly depth of beauty 
Gleaming in her matchless eye? 

Did you hear the angels whisper, 

Asjthey held her so secure, 

‘Far too frail, art thou, fair flow’ret, 
Earth’s fierce tempests to endure’? 

“And Memory, cruel Memory! 

Don’t you know that nevermore 

Come the pattering feet of Johnny 
O’er the hallowed nursery floor? 

Don’t you know my heart is heavy 
And my hands have naught to do, 



18 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Since the little crimson stockings 
Lie away as good as new ? 

“Surely, now, you saw the wee one 
As he climbed upon my knee, 

Lisping faintly—fever stricken— 

‘Won’t you sing just once for me’? 
Tell me, Memory,—did you know it— 
That his dimpled cheek was flushed 
With the burning glow of fever 
At which hectic’s flame had blushed? 

“Did you see the head drop lower? 

Did you note his fleeting'breath? 

Did you know that icy rigor 
On those chubby hands meant death? 
Yes, you knew it, cruel taunter! 

Knew we laid him down to rest, 

Just as Autumn’s radiant spirit 
Heaped her glories on his breast. 

“And beneath the snow-drifts pillowed, 
With fair blossoms on her brow, 
Sweetly sleeps another darling— 

For my arms are empty now— 

And the baby’s ceaseless prattle 
Falls no longer on my ear, 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


19 


While the music of her laughter 
Only now the angels hear. 

“So to-night, I’m sad and lonely, 
Christmas snows are on the ground, 
‘Peace, Good Will, ’ is sounding ever 
Festive joys are all around— 

By the mantle hanging mutely 
Are two stockings, all that’s left, 
While remembrance—cruel mentor— 
Whispers oft ‘thou art bereft. ’ 

“Clear and sweet, within the distance, 
Joyous bells are ringing loud, 

But my heart awaits the music 
Only heard above the cloud; 

And I’m thinking as I stand here 
Of the row of stockings small 
Hanging, just one year ago, 

‘Gainst the chimney on the wall.’ ” 






20 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


HEART’S EASE. 


The house was hushed and silent, 

No foot was on the stair, 

And the autumn winds were sighing 
A dirge-note of despair. 

Closed blinds and softest whispers; 

Dimmed eyes and muffled tread, 

Told in plainest accents 
That a loving one lay dead. 

Yes, a chair was vacant, 

A well-known voice was still, 

And a tender, patient Mother 
Had obeyed her Master’s will. 

And a little heart was mourning, 

A voice was full of woe, 

For none missed the household darling— 
None thought of “Baby Joe.” 

And all day long in silence 
He bore his burden well, 

*Till the dismal shades of evening 
Across the threshold fell— 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


21 


The quiet calm of twilight, 

Ju*st before the long, dark night, 

When mother eyes so loving 
Make all the shadows bright— 

But no joyous, smiling, welcome 
Came the baby heart to cheer,— 

No dear, loved voice responded, 

“Yes, precious, I am here.” 

No fond arms pressed the wee one 
Close to her faithful breast, 

And the little head drooped downward— 
Only Jesus knew the rest. 

So the stars came out in beauty 
Their silent watch to keep, 

But “Baby Joe” was missing 
When it came his time to sleep. 

And, in and out in anguish, 

Searched they for him all around, 

But no lisping voice responded, 

No baby form was found. 

’Till, close beside the doorway, 

Where lay the white-draped bier, 

Came the words in plaintive accents— 

“ Dear Mamma, don’t you hear? 



22' 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


“ I’se hunted ’till I found you 
And now you s’eep so long. 

Won’t you wake and talk to baby 
If he sings his pitty song? 

“See zee pitty f’owers he’s gavared, 
Pitty f’owers so sweet and blue; 

Hold ’em in your hands, dear Mamma, 
Dey is every one for you.” 

And the bunch of sweetest “heart’s ease” 
In the cold, white hands was pressed, 
And the baby’s head was lowered 
To the quiet, pulseless breast. 

And the darling’s floral offering 
Was approved with tear-dimmed eyes; 
And it whispered its sad story 
To the angels in the skies. 






TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


23 


DINAH. 


’Twas in the bleak December, and if rightly 
I remember, 

All the rivers, streams and brooks were 
frozen o’er; 

The winter winds were sighing as if grieving 
for the dying 

Of the dear, departed Summer days of yore. 

The snow flakes down were falling, and our 
little ones were calling 

To the fragile, transient treasures as they 
floated to the ground, 

Bach pale fair face, or rosy, turned from the 
fireside cosy, 

To view the white-winged fairies coming 
down. 

The icicles were hanging, and now and then 
a clanging. 

Would to our startled fancies break the 
unexpected news, 

That from their height they’d tumbled, and 
hopelessly had crumbled, 

In accumulated rainbows of bright, pris¬ 
matic hues. 




24 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


The stars but ventured shyly, only peeping 
very slyly 

Thro’ the curtained canopy of impenetrable 
hue, 

Then wouldhide their silvered brightness in 
the golden realm of lightness 

In the world beyond the azure field of blue. 

Inside, fires were burning—the minor fagots 
spurning— 

Wrapping ever closer in crimson, leaping 
flame, 

The mighty oak of ages, whose chronicles on 
pages 

Would spread, afar and near, his rural 
fame. 

In her corner, softly knitting, was old Dinah 
calmly sitting, 

She whose varied course in life was almost 
run, 

A nd we knew that soon the parting—the bit¬ 
ter, bitter parting— 

From our old and trusted “Aunty” sure 
would come. 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


25 


And each eye grew dim with tears, as we 
thought of all the years, 

Faithfully she’d been our trust and stay— 

Thro’ nights of deepest grief and dawns of 
glad relief— 

Ever had we felt her helpful sway. 

No words of harsh complaining, no abject 
trouble feigning, 

Had ever on our childish fancies rung, 

And each imagined sorrow would on the 
bright tomorrow, 

Be forgotten in the songs that “Aunty” 
sung. 

So the dusky fingers traveled o’er the yarn 
we had unravelled, 

Just to see the calm, complacent, merry 
smile, 

As she gathered up her stitches, as a miser 
would his riches, 

And knit them up again from harm’s be¬ 
guile. 

But the fire began to glimmer, and the candle 
grown dimmer, 

Brought the shadows out to play about the 
room, 



26 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


And away was put the stocking, while the 
quiet, measured rocking, 

Told us “Aunty” now was resting in the 
gloom. 

And we clamored for a story—notone of deeds 
of glory— 

But just a little tale of long ago— 

“ Do ‘Aunty’ tell us sometin’, ior your dimp¬ 
led baby dumplin’ 

Soon within her little bed will have to go. ” 

Thus our household darling pleaded, and old 
“Aunty” tho’ she heeded, 

Every look, and tone, and wish that baby 
£ave, 

Bowed her head in sudden sadness, which 
sent ev’ry trace of gladness 

From our youthful, loving hearts so true 
and brave. 

“Not to-night, meh precious pet, fer old Dinah 
can’t ferget 

Jest twenty years ago this bury night, 

Dey brought her ole man home, stark an’ stiff 
in eb'ry bone, 

An’ de nex’ day laid him fer from Dinah’s 
sight. ” 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


27 


And in the dying embers—my fond heart yet 
remembers— 

I saw old “Aunty” throw some ashes grey, 
And then and there we left her, with the one 
who had bereft her— 

In memory’s sacred gardens far away. 

And long they strolled together—’tis hard for 
hearts to sever— 

Up and dowm the happy vales of long ago, 
’Till at last they reached the crossing, where 
Jordon’s waves were tossing, 

And the sunset in the West was gettinglow. 

And the tiny craft was waiting, and sweet 
strains their hearts elating, 

They crossed the ebbing tide of that dark sea 
And early on the morrow some sandals bright 
did borrow, 

And stepped upon the shore of Galilee. 
******* 

Morning’s light had broken when the sad, 
sad words were spoken, 

That told us faithful Dinah was at rest, 
And from the smile so beaming upon her vis¬ 
age gleaming, 

We knew that she was cradled on her “ole 
man’s” breast. 



28 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


PASSING DAYS. 

Faded and dim through the vistas of distance 
Lie the motionless shadows of days that are 
past, 

Days of delight, of gloom or resistance, 
Fleeing in haste into twilight at last. 

Into the twilight—the rest of the evening 
That lies just beyond the portals of light, 

Where joys long since ended, and fond hopes 
retrieving, 

Blossom again ’neath skies mildly bright. 

Yet, far in the East, are the future days 
dawning, 

Beautifully bright in crimson and gold, 

Each rosy wavelet a star-spangled awning, 
’Neath which the glories of cloud-land un¬ 
fold. 

And the beautiful days, bright-eyed and 
beaming, 

Greet us with fond hopes ne’er to come true, 

Till the light once so fair in the West bright¬ 
ly gleaming, 

Silently fades into evening’s dark hue. 




TWILIGHT REVERIES 


29 


Thus in the evening of life we shall find 
them— 

The past and the future commingled in 
one— 

Calmly awaiting e’er other ties bind them, 

To give in our record at setting of sun. 

And each golden deed, each spotless endeavor, 
Each loving word, or sweet charity’s gem, 

Shall by these faithful departed days ever 
Be added at last to a bright diadem. 

A bright diadem in whose lustre reposes 
Every tear of our life in our bitterness 
shed— 

Each thorn of our pathway hid ’mid the roses 
That by the dews of redemption are fed. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


30 


JUDGE NOT. 

Judge not! Life’s fevered dream of passing 
pain will soon be o’er, 

When hearts their weary weight of care 
will feel no more, 

And time will wreathe the aching brow of 
conscious right 

With fadeless bloom of blossoms—gaily 
bright. 

Too short the span of golden years enlinked 
To dim the lustre of the diamond’s crest, 

Then far too brief for slander’s cruel sting 
To blight the flow’rets of the human breast,* 

Judge not: Tho’ outward bearing oft an aspect 
Of sin and guilt might readily supply, 

Remember that the sombre shades of twilight 
Ever screen the glories of the sky. 

Judge not! We stroll at dewy day dawn 
Where morning-glories bloom in radiance 
bright, 

But homeward in the gathering dusk of even, 
Their charm has vanished to our wondering 
sight. 




TWKjIGHT reveries. 


31 


Tkus, from this fragile bloom of God’s own 
garden, 

We learn a lesson of sweet grace forsooth— 
And closed within the breast of Earth’s 
scorned pilgrim, 

May gleam the fairest gems of sacred truth. 



32 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


LITTLE THINGS. 

Only a smile of gladness, 

But to-day 

It drove from brow of sorrow 
Pain away. 

Only a soft word spoken 
’Mid the throng, 

But it cheered the weary pilgrim 
Passing long. 

Only a cool hand pressed 
On heated brow, 

But it eased the burning fever 
Even now. 

Only a word of solace 
Whispered low, 

But the heart so heavy lad£n 
Lost its woe. 

Only a spotless blossom in a garret, 
Cold and dark, 

But its fragrant beauty nurtured 
Litfe’s expiring spark. 

Only a song sung sweetly as in the 
Long ago, 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


3 
3 

But a man’s soul was saved from perdi¬ 
tion’s 

Depths of woe. 

Oh can it be that little things— 

Just such as these— 

Can mark the destiny of life 
As random please? 

Yea, yea, my friend, why ask 
It here? 

The little things of life are those 
Most dear. 

And just these tiny acts of thought 
And kindness— 

These little deeds so trivial in them 
Selves— 

Make Heaven of earth, and hearts the 
Mystic region 

Where music lingers and bright 
Sunshine delves. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


34 

JUNE TIME. 


’Mid garlands of roses and skies brightly blue, 
The beautiful June time unfolds, 

And decks with her beauty and radiant hue 
The ungilded treasures the dark world en¬ 
folds. 

To the bird in the wildwood she whispers in 
glee, 

And his joy thro’ the wilderness rings, 
While his lowlier mate in her nest on the tree, 
To her birdlings a happy song sings. 

And the ripening grain in the teeming fields 
With her magical charms she surveys, 

And a bountiful harvest, the richest of yields, 
’Neath the fairest of skies gleaming lays. 
Thence to the brooklet, on airiest wing 
She wends her mysterious way, 

And her summons so sweet—the tidings she’ll 
bring— 

Will be murmured by waters all day. 

Then to the garden of flowers she appeals, 
And the lily her preference knows, 

For she droopingly pales as the fair June 
kneels 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


35 


At the shrine of the radiant rose. 

To the pansy, too, a fond tribute she pays, 
And the dear little blossom of old 
Finds the sweetest message most tenderly 
lays 

Next her true little heart of bright gold.. 

******** 
Ah! beautiful June-time — Summer’s fair 
queen— 

With your poetic visions and dreams— 
With your perfumes rare and your golden 
sheen 

And the flash of your sunniest gleams— 
Stay with us ever through story and song, 
Teach us your mystery sweet, 

Bid us bow low as serfs mid your throng 
And worship the flowers at your feet. 

Oh! rarest and fairest of June-time nights, 
With the silent watch of the stars, 

Bring back again the joys and delights 
Which the coming of day rudely mars! 

Call back to us the sweet, tender grace 
Of the dreams of youth’s golden prime, 
Draw gently the veil o’er Sorrow’s grim face 
That saddened the dear June-time. 



36 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


IN THE VALLEY. 


Lying alone in the valley, 

Hid far ’neath the myrtle vine, 

Is a tiny, tenanted mansion, 

Where the sunbeams softly recline. 

We know not whose beautiful darling 
Sleeps tranquilly under the sod, 

But some heart has bowed ’neath its anguish, 
And in bleak Gethsemene trod. 

Some hand hath smoothed the bright ringlets 
Back from the death chilled brow, 

And heard the soft voices of angels 
In unison murmuring “Now.” 

Some home has missed the gay prattle— 

The silvery laugh full of glee— 

And the dear, winsome ways of the baby 
Now asleep ’neath the sheltering tree. 

Inscribed on the bright, gleaming marble 
Read we only the words “Little Pet,” 

But we know that thro’ midnights of silence 
A mother’s heart sobs even yet. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


37 


But tenderest arms are encircling 
The wee baby form far on high, 

And the guardianship of the angels 
Is the heritage e’er of the sk;y. 

And the bright sunny head as it nestles 
’Gainst the warmth of Jesus’ loved breast* 
Reflects but the gold from the blessings 
That ’bide ’mid the home of the blest. 



38 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


EASTER LILIES. 


Silently, grandly the sun went down 
And left to her tranquil rest, 

The saddened -world with her golden crown 
By the visions of joy unpressed. 

’Twas Easter Eve and the world’s bright 
dream 

Of the glorious morn to come, 

Was merged in the shadowy, mourning gleam 
That fades with the setting sun. 

And over the city so vast and grand 
The queen of the night arose, 

And the silvery light of her starry band 
Illumined the twilight’s close. 

But, trembling, coyly the twinkling stars 
Shyly peeped from their world so blue 
In thro’ a pane whose time-worn scars 
Told of poverty’s sorrow anew. 

And their softened beams shed a halo fair 
O’er a form on a bed of pain— 

A baby girl with her golden hair 
Cross the pillow lovingly lain; 




TWILIGHT REVERIES 


39 


Patiently gazing with wistful eyes, 

And a weary, longing sigh, 

Toward the sparkling ge ins of the distant 
skies, 

Where childhood’s fancies unerringly lie. 

* ‘What is it, my pet?” and a fair, young face 

Leaned over the helpless form; 

A face that had lost none of girlhood’s grace, 

Tho’ long it had baffled life’s storm. 

“Only this, Mama dear”—and the moments 
seemed hours 

To the sad heart beating above; 

“If Jesus loves baby, He’ll send her some 
flowers 

By the dear little stars of His love. 

“Don’t you think if she asks Him He surely 
will let 

Just one little star all alone 

Come down from the sky with the flowers for 
your pet 

If she sends it right back quickly home?” 

Then the eyes closed in silence, the sweet 
voice was stilled, 



40 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


And the wee hands were folded in prayer, 

And the high home eternal with pleading was 
filled, 

That crept up the bright golden stair; 

A piteous plea for the gold-chaliced flowers, 

That breathed of the glorious rise 

Of Jesus, our Savior, to Heaven’s bright 
bowers, 

Far away ’mid the shadowy skies. 

And the eyes opened wide when the prayer 
was complete— 

Sweet assurance was on the fair brow— 

And fast, with expectancy, the baby heart 
beat— 

For Jesus the lilies would surely send now. 

And the tear-tortured eyes of the sorrowing 
mother 

Dwelt long on the pale, pinched face; 

How could she shatter the faith of another 

So trustfully confident of God’s wondrous 
grace? 

Long weary weeks had her frail hands 
striven, 




TWILIGHT REVERIES; 


* 41 

Cruelly stunned had she baffled alone— 

Till now on the brink life’s sorrows were 
driven, 

And o’er the dark waters Hope’s pinions 
had flown. 

Yet once again, ere the stars merged their 
brightness 

Into the warmth of the day’s rosy dawn, 

On the door-step of affluence—with its joy 
and its lightness— 

Her darling’s sad longing into kind ears 
had gone. 

And close to her heart in the light’s early 
glimmer 

The fairest of flowers nestled sweet in 
repose, 

And hurrying on, while the star-light grew 
dimmer, 

Her sweetest of praises in gladness arose. 

Then into the room where baby was sleeping 

Softly she crept to the wee corner bed— 

But angels about it their loved watch were 
keeping, 

And Heaven’s bright glory was over it shed. 



42 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


And Jesus, the Shepherd, the darling’s sad 
plea 

Had heard far away in His fold; 

And softly had whispered, ‘ ‘Come unto Me— 

Here ever are blooming bright lilies of 
gold.” 

And one little star showed the wee feet the 
way 

That led to that flower-nurtured land; 

And the fragrance of lilies, sweet angels 
would say, 

Floated dreamily over the strand. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


43 


WAITING. 

/ 


’Twas a night in the bleak mid-winter, 

And the snow flakes were falling fast, 
Shrouding the forms of pedestrians 
In raiment of fairest cast. 

And the wind played a minor crescendo 
’Neath the cornice of regal domains, 

Or waked wild, iEolian lyrics 

’Gainst poverty’s shivering panes. 

And on thro’ the deep’ning darkness, 

With visions of warmth and of light, 
Passed quickly the storm-tossed pilgrims 
Fleeing the rage of the night. 

But near, where the wind raved wildest, 

On a door step, alone and ill-clad, 

Was a wee baby form with soft ringlets, 

And eyes, oh! so pleading and sad! 

And hurrying feet paused before her, 
Wondering eyes sought the face 
That showed ’mid the gas light’s soft glimmer 
The path of the tear drop’s trace. 





44 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


“What’s this?” and a brawny policeman 
Stepped in ’mid the motionless throng; 

“No loitering on the street corners, 

Pass on—Get along! Get along!” 

Then his eyes sought the waif on the doorstep, 
And his face grew at once strangely sad, 

As he faltered in tones, almost tender, 
“What’s wrong, little one? This is bad.” 

“I’se only looking for Mamma,” 

And the tear drops all started anew; 

“I fot if I came here to wait, sir, 

She’d look if she only but knew. 

‘ ‘ ‘ Where’d she go?’ Oh to heaven last week sir, 
And she told baby, dear, ’zackly dis: 

The she’d fink of her always at even’, 

And the angels would bring her a kiss. 

“So now, sir, I’se found a bright window, 
See! dare it is, up, oh, so far!” 

And the wee, dimpled finger was pointed 
Toward the glow of the bright Evening Star. 

“And I fink if I only wait now, sir, 

My Mamma will know zat I’s here; 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


45 


And she’ll come and sit down by the window 
An’ call me her ‘wee, precious dear.’ ” 

******* 

Poor baby girl! ’Mid the day dawn, 

Or at night with its burden of woe, 

That mother heart in the far land 
Will love you and tell you so. 

How will the message e’er reach you 

From the limits of Heaven’s bright gleam? 
From angel hands it shall flutter 

And ope’ mid the flowers of a dream. 



46 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


ONLY A NOTE FROM BABY. 


Across the earth, like a golden dream, 

The sunbeams softly lay, 

And the great, wide world in the mellow light, 
Glowed warm in the last bright ray. 

But the mildest beams of the setting sun 
On a baby form fell fair— 

A boy, with eyes like the summer skies, 

And a halo of sunny hair. 

Patiently tracing with cautious ease— 

On the daintiest, snowiest sheet— 

In baby characters, rugged and queer, 

A “billet doux” plaintive and sweet. 

A message of love to a dear one, 

Far away in a distant town, 

And the note must be stamped and finished, 
Ere the busy sun went down. 

“My ’ittle heart aches and I’se lonely, 

And I wants my own mama so bad, 

So I sends her a curl and a kiss, too, 

To tell her I’se weary and sad.” 

That was all, and the dimpled fingers 





TWILIGHT REVEEIES. 


47 


Tied it fast with a love knot of blue, 

And the envelope bore the inscription— 

“To Mama, Four Forty, from Lew.” 

Then off to the letter box distant, 

The baby form trudged in high glee, 

And the missive, so tiny, was posted, 

Ere the stars shone bright o’er the sea. 

But in the silence of midnight that followed, 
When the world slept m quiet repose, 

The Angel of Death came unsummoned 
And swiftly to Heaven arose. 

And the silvery laugh of a baby 
Came back from the golden shore, 

As an echo that vibrates in passing, 

Then ceases—to waken no more. 

And the blue eyes of somebody’s darling 
Opened wide in the land far above, 

And angel choirs sang him sweet lullabies 
In accents of tenderest love. 

And quick, like the flash of bright lightning 
That quivers a moment o’erhead, 

Sped the news to the far distant city 
That told that the baby was dead. 



48 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


And the heart-broken wail of a mother— 
Laid low ’neath the chastening rod— 
Was carried, by angels in pity, 

To the beautiful palace of God. 

******* 
The silvery star of the evening 

With radiant smiles beamed bright, 
And the sombre, fleeting shadows 
Grew dim in the fading light. 

But the crescent orb of the heavens 
Illumined the earth below, 

With a mystic dream of beauty 
That only her mild rays know. 

And into a room of mourning 
Her softest beams were shed, 

Where a mother knelt, in sorrow, 
r By the side of her hallowed dead. 

By the side of her angeled darling— 
Wrapped in a dreamless rest, 

With snowy, fragrant blossoms 
Clasped to his pulseless breast. 

And only her plaintive sobbing 
Broke the stillness of all around, 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


49 


When the postman’s knock at the entry 
Gave back its echoing sound. 

And the note of her baby’s penning, 

Tied with the ribbon so blue, 

Was left to the mother—love’s keeping, 
While the postman in silence withdrew. 

* * ***** 

Only a note from her darling— 

Her boy with the golden hair— 

Only a sunny tress breathing 
Its message of mystical prayer. 

Only a missive so tender 
From the beautiful star-gemmed land; 

Only another link binding 
The earth and the golden strand. 

Only the hallowed pictures 
Of a baby’s life—soon run; 

Only a mother’s voice pleading, 

“Oh Father! ‘Thy will be done ! 1 ” 



50 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


AN ANGEL OF MERCY. 

} Twas Christmas eve, and the snow lay deep 
O’er city, vale and town, 

And yet anon in myriad showers 
The fairy flakes came down, 

Till the trees bowed low their stately heads 
In the forests stern and old, 

And the city’s din was muffled low 
In a mantle white and cold. 

With a low, sad moan, the night wind ranged 
Thro’ the crowded, bustling street, 

Nor paused in its reckless, mad career 
Till its fitful heart-throbs beat 
A wild response unto the night, 

Throughout whose long, dark hours, 

God’s angels bright were watching o’er 
This great, wide world of ours. 

Were watching o’er each tiny head— 

Each happy, childlike face— 

Sweetly wreathed in dreamland smiles 
In slumber’s fond embrace. 

But out alone in the city streets 
One wee form trudged along— 



TWILIGHT reveries. 


51 


Oh! where was the angel’s watchful care, 

Oh! where the lullaby song? 

And on he went, with his ragged cap 
Pulled far o’er his downcast eyes, 

And his ringlets fair proved a nesting place 
For the white winged birds of the skies. 
Cold and numb were the tiny feet 
That plod thro’ the wintry storm, 

But colder still the trembling hands. 

That held to his shivering form. 

A wee violin with its quivering strings, 

Ever ready in sympathy sweet, 

To respond to the pleading, piteous tale 
Of the poor little waif of the street. 

But at last thro’ a vista of polished plate glass, 
He gazed on a scene of delight, 

And in thro’ the cor rider tremblingly slipped 
Into the realms of bright light. 

Yes, into a hall of luxurious ease, 
Resplendent with beauty and sin, 

For, lured by the grandeur and mystical sway, 
The demon of vice crept in. 

And red glowed the wine in the bright, brim¬ 
ming cup, 



52 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


While its ruinous flush was sent 
Into the face of each hard, stern man, 

O’er the dice box angrily bent. 

And close to a spot where fierce words rang, 
And men in their frenzy seemed wild, 

The little musician paused there and played, 
“Oh, mother! look down on your child!” 
And louder, still louder the sweet strains rose 
Till the palace of sin seemed replete 
With invisible seraphs whose softest of strains 
Gently swelled into raptures complete. 

Then the soft, sighing notes ebbed mildly away 
Into vibrating symphony sweet, 

And stern eyes were turned with pitying 
glance 

Toward the orphaned child of the street. 
******* 

Did an “Angel of Mercy” rest his wings 
’Mid the gaming tables of sin? 

Was the “Christ Child” guiding those trem¬ 
bling feet 

As they noislessly crept within? 

Did a sainted mother—gone before— 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


53 


Look down on her wayward child 
Selling his soul to the demon vice 
’Mid revels so fierce and so wild? 

Perchance ’twas thus, but the orphan boy 
Went not from that door alone, 

And his bed that night was soft and white— 
Not the cold of the city stone— 

And the hall wherein dark sin had waged 
Her conflict ’tween wrong and right, 

Was wrapped in silence and shadows grim 
When the Christmas morn broke bright. 



54 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


THE CONVENT CHAPEL, 

From her dim, enchanted chambers, 
Radiant browed and starry eyed— 
Faithful to her every votary 
Pressing closer to pur side— 

Comes fond memory with her magic, 
Wooing us from cares away, 

Softly playing with our heartstrings, 
Bringing back each hallowed day. 

And among her train of beauty 
There are visions fair to see. 

But one hallowed picture passing 
Sheds its holy calm on me. 

’Tis the convent’s shaded chapel, 
Wrapped in shadows soft and gray, 
Steeped in peace and holy blessings— 
Barring out the glare of day— 

Shrouded ever in mild twilight, 

And with incense sweet and rare, 

Upward floating to the heavens, 

With its messages of prayer. 

Fair and pure the white draped altar, 
With its golden-hearted flowers— 
Fairest, dearest queens of summer 
Brought from fragrant, hallowed bowers— 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


55 


Brought to deck the sanctum holy, 
Where the “Christ-Child” watching o’er, 
Sheds a ray of mystic beauty 
•O’er the chancel-and the floor. 

And the sainted, mild Madonna, 
Hovering near with love lit eyes, 

Seems to whisper to the earthly 
Of the rest within the skies. 

And, half hid in dusky twilight, 

Are the holy nuns at prayer, 

Kneeling ’round the shrine most sacred 
While the vesper fills the air. 

Kneeling there with rapt devotion 
On each pale and downcast‘face, 

Filled with trusting, patient beauty, 

And the calm of priceless grace. 

* * * * * 

Ah! dim and faded convent chapel, 

Hid among the verdant hills, 

Ever will your restful shadows 
Guide our footsteps o’er life’s ills! 

And the vesper, sweetty ringing— 

Tho’ afar, perchance, we roam— 

Will at dewy eve remind us 
Of our peaceful “convent home.” 



56 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


LITTLE SHOES. 

There are responsive echoes in the depth gf 
every heart, 

From which the mines of Croesus could not 
win us to depart. 

There are little faded dresses, tiny caps and 
broken toys, 

Which miserly we cherish and kiss with 
sadd’ning joys. 

But of all the earth holds dear to me, of bless¬ 
ings or of pelf, 

Is a tiny pair of worn shoes upon my closet 
shelf. 

A little pair of button shoes with here and 
there a tear— 

The rubbed and tattered tiny shoes my darl¬ 
ing used to wear. 

And where is he, you ask me? With the little 
ones at play? 

Out among the daisies or the clover in the 
hay? 

Out among the cowslips ’neath the azure 
summer skies? 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


57 


Out among the willows where the deep’ning 
shadow lies? 

Will the tranquil shades of evening calmly 
coming o’er the hill, 

Homeward bring my little darling, prompt to 
do his mother’s will? 

Shall the tiny form at twilight nestle close 
within my arm— 

Clasp his chubby arms about me with his 
childlike, trusting charm? 

Will the sunny, golden tresses of the head 
upon my breast, 

Feel the kisses softly given safe within the 
dear home nest? 

Shall the blue eyes of my darling, looking up 
so fondly bright, 

Veil their brightness ’neath the guidance of 
my mother-love tonight? 

Ah, no! Out among the daisies are the little 
ones at play, 

But my darling’s dimpled fingers gather 
flow’rets far away, 

And his childlike, silver treble with the 
angels’ songs arise, 




58 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


For my little boy is singing, sweetly singing 
in the skies. 

And the little baby shoes standing waiting 
all alone, 

Oft within the midnight silence with my 
mother heart make moan. 

And my little darling’s coming still I hear 
upon the stair— 

But ’tis only the tap of an angel’s foot paus¬ 
ing there. 


# 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


59 


“ABOVE THE STARS THERE IS REST.” 


Like a dream of some saddened life picture, 
Half seen through a mist of heart-tears— 
Faded, yet filled with sweet mem’ries— 

And dimmed with the dust of long years; 
So the tremulous shadows of evening 
Calmly stealing o’er all the earth 
Bear naught but the spirit reflection 
Of the bright day’s beauteous worth. 

But there comes with the murmur of twilight, 
The calmness, the sweetness of rest— 
Hovering in guardianship tender 

And sinking to sleep in each breast— 

While the flush of the afterglow waning 
In a sea of glorious light, 

Rests secure on the wavelets of crimson 
Unmindful the soul’s darkened night. 

So the eyes of earth’s weary pilgrims, 
Anguished on beds of drear pain— 

Weary of daylight’s fierce glamour 
And longing for quiet again— 

Find peace for the wearied spirit, 

And balm for the aching brow, 




60 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


In the softened shadows of evening 
That whisper—“rest sweetly now,” 

And the hospital wards grown fainter 
In the duskily pictured light, 

Reveal but the fading outlines 
Of cots to the left, and the right. 

Cots whereupon lie blighted 
Some of the heroes of life— 

Cut down by the frosts of December, 

Ere the blossoms of May were rife. 

Some in the pride of strong manhood, 
With the daring of life unfulfilled; 

Others grown old in earth’s battles 
Long ere ambitition was stilled; 

Some with eyes dim with long weeping, 
Others with smiles bright and fair; 

Some with the faith of hopes gleaming, 
Others bowed low in dispair. 

Rut a boy’s face was there of all others 
Replete with the fervor of truth, 

With the guileless graces of childhood, 
And the unsullied candor of youth. 

But near him with eyes wherein gleameth 
Fierce passion in quick, lurid flame, 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


61 


Was a man in whom reckless bravado 
Had dimmed the bright luster of fame. 

A man with a face old and haggard, 

Grown harsh with the imprint of years, 

With a heart too cruel for pentinence, 

And eyes too hardened for tears; 

And the voice of the evil tempter 
Found in his crimson-dyed soul 

A thousand clamoring echoes 

That taught that the grave was life’s goal. 

Long years had his spirit rebellious 
Contended the mandates of fate; 

Long years had his innermost nature 
Urged onward the frenzy of hate; 

Long years had life’s brightest prospects 
Found a grave in the depths of despair; ] 

Long years had the lurking of evil 
Hushed the mild promptings of prayer. 

Till now in the shades of the twilight, 

His life’s bitter anguish should end, 

And no tear would tremble in pity, 

No loving heart would befriend; 

And his eyes gleamed fire in the darkness 
As, close to his quivering: heart, 



62 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


The glittering steel of a weapon 
Its pitiless chill did impart. 

When, calm on the breath of the evening, 
A childish voice rose, sweet and clear, 
Breaking in ripples of gladness 

Unfraught with the tremors of fear. 
First, exultant and wild in its meaning, 
Then faint with the raptures suppressed, 
Rose the beautiful strains of the singer. 
“Above the fair stars there is rest.” 

’Twas the voice of the sweet boy suff’rer 
Singing of peace most divine, 

Of rest in the beautiful city 
And the sweetness of faith sublime— 
And faint, like a chime in the distance, 
Ebbed the strains into silence away, 

And the lingering calm that succeeded 
Seemed a prayer at the close of the day. 
****** 
None knew of the wretched existence 
That frail in the balance was hung, 

None heard the moanings of anguish 
That from the spirit were wrung; 

But the angels of God in the far-land 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


63 


Whispered their message sincere 
To the lowly child in the darkness, 

And his song breathed a promise of cheer. 

And the joyous light of redemption 
Broke with a radiance bright 
Over the surging billows 
Of life’s dark pitiless night; 

And the stern man, shorn of his weakness, 
Looked back at the wreckage of time, 

And, deep in his heart’s lone recess, 

The promise of hope did enshrine. 

And there, ’mid the gloom and the darkness, 
Breathed he gently a prayer, soft and low; 
A prayer from his innermost nature, 

That told of the depth of his woe; 

And the beautiful angels of Heaven 

Laid his pardon, themselves, on his breast, 
For, ere morning awoke in her glory, 

He had found “Above the fair stars there 
was rest. ’ ’ 



64 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


INFIDELITY. 


’Tis past! the magic spell of sweetness 
Once sublime; 

The joyous life of sunshine 
Linked with thine— 

The happy hours of gladsome 
Summer time, 

And dreams of blissful love which 
Once were mine. 

The heart’s dear tributes shattered, 
Scorned; 

The soul’s sweet music lightly 
Mourned— 

Old ties broken, new ones 
Formed, 

Love’s fair citadel madly 
Stormed. 

No more the brief farewells so sad, 

Yet blessed, 

No more the gnawing pain of 
Love’s unrest; 

No more the dream of dawning hopes 
Suppressed; 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


65 


No more the minor strains of love’s 
Behest. 

’Twere well, perhaps, that as the years 
Go by, 

To greet them with no tear, 

No sigh, 

But hearts where-in dear spectres 
Lie, 

Must battle bard ere love 
Can die. 

Once more upon thy proud form let 
Me gaze; 

Once more thy regal beauty 
Softly praise; 

Once more breathe low the spirit notes of 
Tender lays; 

Once more lift light the veil of 
Other days. 

Then, to the glorious, pictured past 
I’ll turn, 

There love’s sweet lessons to 
Unlearn, 

And within oblivion’s midnight 
Urn 



66 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


The quivering flame of grief 
Shall burn. 

Farewell! and when the sighing winds of 
Future hours 

Play rudely ’mid the leaves of darkened 
Bowers, 

Think kindly, then, of one whose love 
Still towers 

Far, far above all Earth’s frail, 
Changeful powers. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


67 


BABY’S PLEA. 


Lying in my darkened chamber, 

Fever tossed and racked with pain— 
Knowing only bitter anguish, 

Praying for sweet rest again,— 

I was roused from painful torture 
By my baby’s lisping plea: 

‘‘Mama’s darlin’ is so s’eepy, 

Tate an’ rock her on your knee. ” 

Then the tiny head was lowered 
Till the soft curls brushed my face, 
And I knew my darling’s longing 
For her old accustomed place; 

And caresses, soft and loving, 

On my fevered brow were pressed, 
Till they came and took my wee one 
From her loved place on my breast. 

And I kissed her, bowed and sobbing, 
With her curly head bent low, 

For I knew within her spirit 
Dwelt the deepest, saddest woe; 

And along the hall and stair-way 
Floated back her plantive plea, 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


68 . 


“Mama’s darlin’ is so s’eepy, 

Tant she rock on Mama’s knee?” 

Years have come and passed in silence 
Since that time so long ago, 

And the silver in my tresses 
Tells of Winter’s chilling snow, 

Yet I hear again in fancy 
My wee darling calling me— 

“Mama, Mama, dearest Mama, 

Tate your baby on your knee. ” 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


69 


RETROSPECTION. 


The day is done and calm the eventide 
Gently slumbers over vale and hill, 

And faint perfumes their fragrance sweet 
have sighed 

Thro’ shadowy vistas—dark and still. 

’Tis the sweet, sad hour when every heart 
Its loving tribute to the past must pay, 

And fondly from its shrine doth gleaming dart 
The tender mysteries that shrouded lay. 

And in the silence of this hallowed hour 
I turn away from every trivial theme, 

And gently lure the tender, mystic power 
That bears the semblance of a vanished 
dream. 

And far away from worldly care and strife, 

I live again the days of long ago— 

With all fcheir joys and all their dreams of life, 
And all their frenzied grief and bitter woe. 

Again from out the mists of long ago, 

A tiny, rose-embowed cot I see, 



70 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


And from the doorway, quaintly low, 

My angel mother smiles on me. 

“Ah! mother dear,thy prayers so gently true, 

Have oft my erring footsteps kindly led, 
And the humble cot ’neath skies so brightly 
blue, 

Hath its contents on regal mansions shed!” 

But the vision changes, and the added years 

Confer the dignity of my manhood’s prime, 
And thro’ the vistas of my hopes and fears, 

I read the answer of a fate sublime. 

And the sunlight bright on my pathway 
gleams, 

And sweet incense from fair flowers’ altars, 
Is wafted at night ’neath the moon’s mild 
beams 

To breath of a faith that ne’er falters. 

A beautiful faith that shall yet lead me 
higher— 

A star in the firmament cast— 

That teaches the earth born the cross to 
aspire 

That the crown he may wear at the last. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


71 


But the dark waves of sorrow roll over my 
life, 

And the star of my faith goes down, 

Ah! where is the heroism with which it was 
rife? 

Where is the cross and the crown? 

And blinded and groping bewildered I stand, 
While the raging tempest beats high, 

And Hope’s snowy pinions by raving winds 
fanned, 

Relinquish the effort to fly. 

Ah! beautiful Hope whom in life’s early morn 
Sent I forth with pinions so free, 

Bury deep from my sight the burden forlorn 
Thou carriest now but for me! 

Where is thy message—thine ‘-olive branch” 
dear— 

To tell me the tide has gone out?— 

The tide of my sorrow that surges so near 
And wraps all my fond dreams about? 

And weak from my anguish I pray to my God, 
And the rainbow of promise illumines the 
skies, 



72 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


And the fairest of blossoms twine ’bout the 
rod 

’Neath which my sorrow now droopingly 
lies. 

And again in the far East a bright star is 
shining 

Which shows me life’s pathway is yet to 
be fair, 

And hid ’neath the clouds I see the bright 
lining 

Which tells me the wavelets of silver are 
there. 

So life in its holiday garb hurries onward, 

And I gather the llow’rets that grow by my 
way, 

And some are the laurels that beckon me 
dawnward, 

While others are lifeless and dead with the 
day. 

And some with the bride’s wreath I twine with 
my blessing— 

Sweet rosebuds and violets so dear— 

But the lilies so fair with their fragrance con¬ 
fessing, 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


73 


Are tenderly laid on the white shrouded 
bier. 

And the wee mountain daisy—so frail and so 
lowly— 

Gathered ere reaching the summit of fame, 

Shall-near my heart—my sanctum most holy— 

Fondly recline with its kindred in name. 

And another fair flow’ret, with a gleam of the 
sunbeams— 

It, too, shall repose on a sanctified shrine; 

For it bears a resemblance more lasting than 
daydreams 

Of soft, golden tresses once loved in my 
prime. 

Aye, once to have truly loved is loving for¬ 
ever, 

For a heart its own faithful allegiance 
keeps; 

And ties firmly knit alone can we sever 

When the trustful interpreter irrevocably 
sleeps. 

So, passing in spectral form, I view a fair 
vision, 

And catch the bright gleam of sunshiny 
hair, 




74 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


And note the fond mem’ries which with truth¬ 
ful precision 

Pass in review yet with tenderest care. 

With tenderest care for sad echoes are wak¬ 
ing— 

Wild notes of despair from dark caverns 
ring; 

And again comes the anguish, the cruel heart¬ 
breaking 

Which the long silenced mem’ries unknow¬ 
ingly bring. 

But a low, silvery laugh breaks in on my 
sadness, 

And two starry eyes look love into mine; 

But day follows day and that ripple of glad¬ 
ness 

Answers another’s plea—“I will be thine. ” 

Then to the broad earth I turn for assistance— 

In the world’s busy mart I struggle and 
rise; 

There overcome each hated resistance, 

And plunge madly on ’neath shadowy skies. 

Till at last, just beyond, is my laurel wreath 
gleaming, 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


75 


And soon does the victor’s crown rest on 
my brow; 

But far ]ess of worth is the real than the 
seeming, 

Pursuit far more dear than possession I 
trow. 

But onward and upward I climb to the summit, 
And view far behind me my stony-hedged 
way, 

And see now preceptibly passing off from it 
The calm, softened shadows that close out 
the day. 

Thus do I know that around and about me 
Are gathering, tho’ slowly, the shades of 
the night, 

And soon will the darkness shut out ever 
from me 

Life’s varied pictures that once filled my 
sight. 

But, when the shadows have gathered forever, 
And closed are my eyes in an unbroken rest, 

God grant that in raptures, without an en¬ 
deavor, 

I hear the glad tidings—“Find here per¬ 
fect rest. ” 




76 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


SWEET REVERIES. 


Chilled with the breath of the Frost King, 
And scorned by the Autumn blast, 

The frail, fair flowers of the Summer 
Had quietly breathed their last, 

And alone in the walks of the garden, 

Lifeless and stiff they lay, 

’Till the soft, mild beams of the sunlight 
Fell gently across their way. 

But, too late, alas! did tbe comforter 
Stretch forward the helping hand, 

And with a loving kiss and tender, 

Did the sunbeams bright disband, 

And some sought the tree tops distant, 

And played ’mid their green and gold, 
While others flashed quick to the waters 
And gazed on their outlines bold. 

But some with caresses as gentle 
As the balmy zephyrs of Spring, 

Paused where the vine-dressed trellis 

Showed the home where the birdlings sing, 
And here ’neath the sheltering shadows, 

The gold of the sun came down 





TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


77 


On the placid face of an aged form, 

With hair like a snowy crown. 

And they decked the motionless figure 
With a raiment of brightest gold, 

And paused ’mid the rustling leaflets, 

While a story her heart-throbs told. 

Back, back thro’ the silence of ages, 

Fond Memory quickened her pace, 

And oft was a bright smile playing 
Where late was the teardrop’s trace. 

Far away was the home of her girlhood,' 

And sisters and brothers were there— 

And the Mother so tender and loving, 

And Father with snow in his hair— 

Then, the door of a wee cot opened, 

And fair was the gay, young bride 
Who stood at the threshold at even, 

With her heart’s dearest love at her side. 

And the tremulous eyes of the dreamer 
Closed over the starting tears, 

And the pale lips murmured in sadness— 
“Sleep sweetly thrb’ all the long years;” 
Then, wee baby’s hands and soft kisses 
Once more on her fair brow were pressed, 



78 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


And dear little voices were whispering— 
‘•Dear Mama, I’se tired, let me rest.” 

And the pale, wrinkled hands moved in an¬ 
guish, 

Then were stretched toward the sun-gilded 
west, 

Where indeed were the baby hands folded 
’Neath the sod in an unbroken rest. 

“Oh, memory! naught have you but shadows 
To throw over life’s fitful dream? 

Has the sad, burdened form in the sunlight 
No vestige of Earth’s golden sheen.? 

Ah, yes! and the tender smile playing 
’Bout the mouth in its placid repose, 

Tells the story of cruel thorns hidden 
’Neath the blush of the beautiful rose. 

So the hours of the pensive day waning, 
Glided on toward the star-girded night, 
While memories—fast fleeting and tender— 
Left tear gems, or flowers, in the flight. 

And the bowed form was watched by the 
angels, 

And the soft eyes that sought the far west, 
Knew not that October’s leaves falling 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 7ft 

Would tenderly rest o’er her breast. 

That soon white-robed seraphs of Eden 
Would whisper—“We’re waiting for thee,” 
And her dimmed eyes would see her loved 
darlings 

Kneeling close by the far “Jasper Sea.” 



80 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


AFTER AWHILE. 


When the shadows have fallen across oar way, 
And the curtain of life is drawn, 

Only the sunbeams that lighted our way 
Will break from the roseate dawn, 

And we’ll view from the white-tipped moun¬ 
tains of Peace 

Life's sorrows in brightest array, 

Bathed in the splendor of joy’s increase, 

Near the shores of the beautiful bay. 

And sweetest of music w T ill float on the air— 
A cadence for every heart-pain— 

And angels of glory their voices will share 
With the soft note’s ecstatic refrain. 

And under the dome where the stars flash 
bright 

Their wordless promise of love, 

We shall view, circling near in their silvery 
light, 

The snow-plumaged form of a dove. 

Thus, truly we’ll know that in Heaven’s far 
land 

Is the promise of **rescue” fulfilled, 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


81 


And the rest-nurtured pinions asail o’er the 
strand, 

Shall bid all earth’s clamors be stilled. 

And wistfully plain will come a low tone— 
Then in tremulous ripples will cease— 

But the message the fair dove has whispered 
alone. 

Is, “Peace, troubled soul! To the, Peace !’ 5 * 



82 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


LOVE’S SORROW. 


“You have asked that I learn to forget you, 
And have cruelly scorned my heart’s plea— 

Ah, then! I must live to forget you, 

And wander afar and be free! 

4 ‘The wealth of my heart’s richest treasure 
Regardless I poured at your feet, 

But the love that I craved without measure 
Came never my soul to replete. 

“You have entered my life like the sunbeam 
That glorifies all in its wake, 

But like it have waned with the day gleam, 
And all but the shadows forsake. 

“You have cared for me, yes, ‘as a brother’— 
God grant me a sisterly prayer— 

But, oh! that the heart of another 
May ever your life’s flow’rets share! 

“You knew not that mine was a passion 
To last o’er a week or a day? 

Are love’s tributes, then, a mere fashion, 

To be donned, or at will laid away? 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


83 


‘ ‘Have you read all in vain the sweet story 
That’s written so plain on love’s skies— 
The tale of my manhood’s great glory 
That shines ever bright from mine eyes? 

“Have you no word to soothe my deep an¬ 
guish? 

To my soul can’t you say, ‘Peace, Be Still’? 
Shall my heart in a prison cell languish 
While thro’ barred iron love’s music might 
trill? 

“Yea, indeed, in low accents you falter— 
‘Youth’s springtime is yet far from past’— 
But the drowing man’s life-saving halter 
Has ’scaped from his quivering grasp. 

‘ ‘Why remind me of years stretching onward 
To the darkness of ceaseless despair? 

Ah! fain would I gaze ever dawn ward, 

Were the light of my life half so fair. 

‘ ‘Whisper not to my grief-burdened spirit 
Of Hope with her plumage of light,— 
Man’s castles may fall and he bear it, 

But the heart-frosts of May leave a blight. 

“Deep, passionate, fervent devotion 




84 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Have I pleaded in vain you retain, 

But only the coldest emotion 

From your bountiful grace can I claim. 

“Would you kneel at my shrine and petition 
A boon that the gods might deny, 

You’d only to whisper your mission, 

And the gift would be yours, e’en I die. 

“Had you climbed to the height where Ambi¬ 
tion 

Had ’lured you with beckoning hand, 

Then in sorrow and lowly contrition 
Had I waited your wish and command. 

“Thou hast rifled my life of its gladness— 
The heritage fair of sweet youth— 

And only dark bleakness and sadness 
Now shadow my soul with their truth. 

“Should you pluck from the parent stem 
tender, 

A beautiful rose in its prime, 

And cast it where dews could not render 
Their sweet ministrations sublime, 

“Would you marvel that all its bright beauty 
Should wither anon and decay? 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


85 


Then think of the tenderer duty 

To the heart’s fragile flowers thou shoudst 
pay. 

“Thou hast told me that this is our parting, 
In thy eyes have I read my fixed doom, 

And I plead for the tear drops now starting, 
One long, last request and sweet boon— 

“That thou keep ever fresh by the fountain, 
Where memory’s gems catch the spray, 
One wee, treasured leaf from the mountain 
Of grief that I carry away. ” 



86 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


WAIT NOT. 


Wait not to gather the roses 
Till chilled by the Autumn’s breath, 
When the fragile petals are scattered 
And paled by the chill of death; 

But cull these fairest of flowerets 
While flushed with the beautiful glow 
Suffused by the goddess of Summer 
Ere by cruelest winds laid low. 

Wait not to utter in kindness, 

To the sorrowing form at your feet, 
The longed-for word of forgiveness 
In accents tender and sweet; 

But lift up the bruised, crushed spirit, 
And wipe from the eyes quite away 
The blinding tears fast obscuring 
The light of God’s beautiful day. 

Wait not to whisper to near ones 
The love that your heart holds dear, 
Remember that destiny lingers 
And the “Angel of Death” stands near. 
Too late, perhaps, you may waken 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


87 


To the thought of the words unsaid— 

Too late! and you pause and tremble 
By the side of the hallowed dead. 

Wait not till the eyelids closing, 

The beauteous orbs seek thine, 

And in tender reproach seem saying, 

“I have loved you, for thou wert mine; 

But no word to my longing spirit 
Told all that was in thy heart, 

And now I am going from you, 

Forever and ever to part.” 

Wait not to press on the forehead 
Of pitiful, lonely age 
The raptuous kiss of affection 
That the soul’s bitter pain might assuage; 
Wait not till the tottering pilgrim 
Is standing alone on the shore 
Of ‘ ‘the bourne from which no man return- 
eth,” 

And life’s transient dream is o’er. 

But today, oh my friend! yes, this moment, 
While the golden present is thine, 

Scatter bright rays of sunshine, 

Making each life sublime; 




88 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


A gentle caress or a soft word, 

A loving touch or a smile, 

May bind up a heart that’s breaking 
And Sorrow’s grim spectre beguile 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


89 


TO BABY SISTER. 


The warmth of the radiant Summer 
Rests tenderly over the land, 

And the beautiful glow of the sunshine 
Seems merged from the gold-paved strand; 
And the rose in the garden is fairer 
Than ever the June time knew, 

But, darling, mid all the earth’s brightness, 
I’m thinking and dreaming of you. 

No heart tends its dearly loved treasures 
More tenderly, fondly than I, 

And thus by the founts of remembrance 
I’ll prayerfully watch till I die. 

Could oblivion dark shroud the mem’ry 
Of the dear, hallowed days spent with thee? 
Could affection’s fond tributes be scattered, 
Like the breeze-wafted foam of the sea? 

Ah no! and ’neath the blue skies of fair 
Heaven 

No warbler e’er trills its bright lay, 

But my thoughts soar aloof on fleet pinions 
To the dear baby girl far away. 

And ever, thro’ sunshine and shadow— 




90 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Thro’ the soul’s desert waste or bright 
meads— 

Will my spirit awake and press onward 
In response to your life’s hope or needs. 

And I know, sister dear, if the angels 
First whisper to “Sannie,” “Come home,” 
’Till your little feet mount the bright stairway 
Despondent and sad will she roam. 

But should the sweet smile of our Saviour 
Rest first on your own gladdened sight, 

On the shores of the beautiful river 
You’ll welcome her thrilled with delight. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


91 


OLD LETTERS. 


In a chest of old oaken, or cedar, 

Far hid from the rude glare of day, 
And tenderly wrapped in fond fancies, 
The dearest of treasures lay. 

And oft in the calm of the evening, 

Like a spectre from out the dead past,. 
Kind retrospect weaves me a garland 
Of flow’rets too tender to last. 

But I twine the perishing blossoms 
With tenderest care .round my heart, 
And out from its echoing chambers 
The sweetest of memories start. 

Then a packet of faded old letters— 

One by one with a gentle caress— 

I withdraw from its hiding place silent, 
And mutely, solemnly bless. 

One from a fair young sister, 

Teeming with girlhood's grace, 
Redolent of springtime fancies 
Which years alone could efface, 
Sighing of dreams just relinquished, 

Of Hope’s dawning, roseate morn, 





92 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Of life and its beauteous sunshine, 

Ere the heart knew a void forlorn. 

And this from the tender mother, 

With the love-light of soft, dark eyes 
Gleaming anew on the tear-dimmed page, 
Where a prayerful blessing lies. 

And I lay aside with a hallowed touch, 

And a moan for the far off strand, 

For the snowy-haired saint—the cherished 
form— 

Is at rest in the silent land. 

And one from the noble father, 

Now bent with the weight of years, 

And his counsel sweet—like a flower, dew- 
drenched— 

I embalm with a flood of tears. 

Then a note from a baby brother, 

With the depth of his heart made known, 
Brings to mind a weary wanderer, 

In distant lands—alone. 

And I turn to a schoolgirl missive, 

So dainty, so loving, so sweet, 

And a withered rose from its perfumed folds, 
Falls silently at my feet, 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


93 


But I pick up the .scattered petals, 

Each one a storied theme 
That breathes of a faded dreamland 
When the highway of life was agleam. 

Then, yellow and sere, in its envelope hid, 
With a flourish so manly and bold, 

A daring epistle reveals to my view 
The type of a tender heart—cold, 

And two laughing eyes seem to smile from 
the page, 

And a boyish vow, tender and true, 

Echoes again through memory’s halls, 

And smites on my heart-strings anew. 

So I lay them aside with a smile and a tear— 
Sweet echoes from out the dear past— 

And from the scattered threads of each broken 
theme, 

I shall weave a sweet romance at last. 

And each hope unfulfilled, each sad plighted 
vow, 

Shall be bound in the brightest of gold, 
And the tiny book, with its gems of tears, 
Shall the fondest heart-secrets enfold. 



94 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


AT LAST. 


I am weary and my soul doth pine for rest— 

Softly floating ever earthward are the voices 
of the blest, 

Singing in the far-off heavens where the 
lonely and oppressed 

Find a balm for every sorrow in rest, sweet 
rest. 

Sad my heart and sick with waiting all these 
years— 

Waiting to gather in a harvest but of tears; 

Longing for the bright hereafter, seen thro’ 
gathering fears, 

Watching for the shore of silver fading as it 
nears. 

Dreaming of the gulden love-dawn long ago, 

When bright visions passed in raptures to 
and fro—» 

Strangers to the saddened tales of bitter woe, 

Knowing but the bliss of loving long ago; 

Waiting, after all these years of labored pain, 

Waiting* for the blessed summons and the 
sweet refrain, 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


95 


Wjeeping oft in silence o’er my idol—rudely 
slain— 

Longing to the clay-cold ears to whisper, 
“Hope again. ” 

Longing to secure the bubbles from the 
crested wave, 

For within the depths of ocean treasures find 
a grave; 

And my blessings, countless, caring not to 
save, 

I consigned, with youthful ardor, to the mer¬ 
cies of the wave. 

Sent them forth in airy vessels—all alone— 

With no guiding hand to steer them safely 
home; 

Sent them out without a sigh—a moan— 

Watching but the silvery sea spray lightly 
blown. 

Now, alas! I turn with dimmed eyes to the 
clouded West, 

Hoping there to see my frail crafts on the 
billow’s crest, 

Yet my sad heart tells me ever, safe they are 
at rest, 



96 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Clasped within the arms of Ocean, on his 
breast. 

Thus I sit, and musing sadly o’er the beaute¬ 
ous past, 

Every hope and every dream-note holds my 
spirit fast, 

Till, before my tearful vision, looms a tiny 
mast, 

And I know my ships are sailing home at last. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


97 


THE CITY WAIF. 


The way was long and the night was cold, 
And the drifting snowflakes, calm and still, 

Wrapped the city streets and house tops bold, 
With an ice-gemmed mantle, white and chill. 

And the cruel wind with a restless sigh, 
Swept with a fury all its own, 

Alike ’gainst the lowly cottage nigh, 

Or the cold, grey front of the massive 
stone. 

Nor paused he here in his passage wild, 

For, ’neath the pale gas light and starless 
sky, 

Friendless and lone roamed the city child— 
Unloved, unknown by the passer by. 

And with a chilling breath or frenzied hold, 
The cruel storm king played his part 

’Neath the tattered garments, limp and cold, 
Where wildly beat one childish heart. 

So the midnight hour, sullenly chill, 
Stealthily crept o’er the earth below, 




98 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


And steeped in her silence valley and hill 
And the city wide with its joys and woe. 

And all alone in the blackened night 

The child of the streets went on her way, 

Till a friendly doorstep—cold and white— 
Offered a bed where the waif might lay. 

And a childish prayer from the lonely*heart 
Went silently up to the skies above— 

A prayer for Jesus to take the part 
Of the orphaned child of his love. 

And the morning light broke over the world, 
Still the baby girl slept on 

Till the sunlight bright his joys unfurled, 
And the midnight hours were gone. 

And the tiny form in a shroud of snow, 
Forever was sweetly at rest; 

For the city waif—the child of woe— 

Was asleep on her Savior’s breast. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


99 


HOMEWARD BOUND. 


The sails to the breeze are exultingly spread, 
The harbor is safely past, 

And the stately vessel is on her way, 

To the homeward port at last. 

Out on the bounding ocean wide, 

Out on the trackless main, 

With her snowy pinions gaily furled. 

Or at play with the breeze again. 

Grandly she plows thro’ the furrowed deep, 
Proudly she breasts the wild wave, 

With never a fear of the cruel gale 
Or the ocean’s dark, treacherous cave, 
When the storm breaks forth and the waves 
beat high, 

But the noble ship braves on, 

Till safe in port and home at last 
Her fears to the breeze are gone. 

Thus on the ocean of life we are sailing, 

Par from the shadowy past, 

With fluttering pinions proudly upwaving 
High from our vessel’s firm mast. 

Yet storms will o’ertake us and fierce winds 
will rise, 

But the danger signals unfurl, 

And, onward thro’ tempests, safely we’ll 
glide 

Into the “Gates of Pearl.” 




100 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


DREAM SONG. 


The last gleam of daylight had faded away, 
But the twilight crept over the world, 

And the murmuring breezes whispered, 

“Oh stay”! 

To the dream mist of beauty unfurled. 

The fragrance of June time was over the land, 
And the pulses of Summer were stirred, 

By the syren notes from the dulcet-band, 

With never a discord heard. 

And the musical ripple of songs long sung 
By the water-nymphs kissed by the spray, 
Awakened again sweet notes from among 
The echoes that died with the day. 

And I heard ‘neath the waves a silvery moan, 
That trembled, then sobbed and was still, 
And I thought of a heart lying there all alone, 
Buried deep from the blight of ill will. 

Did the beautiful Queen of the bright fairy land 
Raise her soft, cadenced voice in despair? 
Or did water sprites grieve for the garlanded 
land 

With the fragrance of flow’rets so fair? 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


101 


Alas! ’Twas the voice of a long cherished 
Hope 

Tossed ’neath the pitiless waves, 

With the storm-driven form unable to cope 
With the billow that wrecks but ne’er saves. 

A beautiful Hope once garlanded fair 
With the dew-laden flowers of delight, 
Sobbing aloud her frenzied despair 
With the pitiful force of her might. 

And her pale hands were clinched o’er her 
heart’s restless throb, 

□ And her soul was filled with wild pain, 
While the racked spirit echoed its life in a sob 

That thrilled ne’er with joy notes again. 

* * * * 

Ah! where the lilies droop low their proud 
heads, 

By the water side’s sun-gilded strand, 

And the white-winged dove her fairy sail 
spreads 

Far over the dream-swept land— 

There, there would I lay my fond Hope down, 
To rest in unbroken repose— 

Guarded by shadows of restfullest brown, 

And mourned by twilight’s sad close. 



102 


TWILIGHT RE\ T EK1ES. 


But Fate with her cruel allotment all told, 
Destined the grave of my love, 

And sadly I heard the wild waves bold 
Her pale form moaning above. 

And I know that the sunlight will flicker and 
fade, 

And the starlight will pale into dawn, 

Still the grave of my Hope by Destiny made 
Will drift thro’ the waves farther on. 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


103 


THE FIRST CHRISTMAS MORN. 


’Tis the tranquil hour of midnight, 

And from out the dark’ning sky 
Comes no silvered ray relieving 
Sombre clouds or shadows nigh. 

Silence broods with calm oppressive 
O’er the snow-clad, dismal earth, 

Stranded are all dreams of pleasure, 

Notes of joy or strains of mirth 

When from the East, one faint ray breaking 
Lights the world with a gleam sublime, 
Dim at first thro’ the night's dark caverns, 
Then aglow with a fire divine, 

And hark! through the silence the sweet 
strains bursting 

Gladly proclaim the new King’s birth. 
“Glory to God in the fullest, the highest, 
Goodwill to men and peace on the Earth .’* 

See, with slow steps and fires of perfection, 
Beaming in eyes, wide with wondrous 
surprise, 

Three bended forms hurrying onward 
Led by the beacon agleam in the skies. 




104 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Lo! to a manger the bright star leads them, 
Where, on a pallet of straw, lowly born, 
Peacefully slumbers the sweet child Jesus 
Just at the dawn of the first Christmas 
morn. 

Restfully sleeps on the breast of dear Mary, 
Mary, His mother, the good and the true, 
On whose fair brow beams the signet of 
Heaven 

In the light of the glad day mirrored anew. 
Louder, still louder the sweet strains are 
ringing, 

‘•Glory to God, fair peace o’er the earth,” 
And angel choirs sweetly afar off are singing, 
“Rejoice with us now in the New King’s 
birth.” 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


105 


GOLDEN WINGS. 


Pink with the flush of Aurora’s blushes, 

And gemmed with jewels of dew, 

A beautiful rose by a cottage lowly, 

Near a latticed window grew. 

And early one morn, ere from fair flowers 
censers, 

Sweet incense was wafted on high, 

Shyly she peeped thro’ the vine-clad trellis 
On a picture of loveliness nigh. 

A new-born babe with the calm of the star 
land 

Still shedding its love light of grace, 

And the fond young mother with glad eyes 
beaming, 

And joy on her fair sweet face. 

Clasping close to her breast her treasure so 
tiny— 

The wee baby hands kissing over and o’er — 
Praying in silence for the life of her dar¬ 
ling, 

Asking but this and no more. 




106 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


And, high on His throne in the far-off 
Heavens, 

God heard her sanctified prayer, 

And the little hunch-back—/the loved child of 
pity— 

To the fond mother-heart did He spare. 

Thus five gladsome summers scattered their 
blossoms 

Over his pathway so fair, 

Ere the little disfigured one, with eyes all 
unknowing, 

Sadly whispered, “Oh! why do they stare?” 

And the wee brown head on his mother’s 
loved bosom 

Was pressed with the tenderest care, 

But the bright eyes were filled with tears all 
unbidden, 

And the little heart broke with despair. 

And never again in innocent pastime 

Bid the little one play the day long— 
Bowed was his spirit, hapless his being— 

And minor the strain of his song. 

Till, weary and worn with his young heart’s 
burden, 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


107 


He dreamingly lay one day, 

Gazing with love on the soft cloud pictures 

Drifting to bluer realms farther away. 

When from the cloud-land in brightest 
apparel, 

A beauteous angel earthward did fly, 

And clasping the saddened one close to her 
bosom, 

Took the tired birdlinghome to the sky. 

And, as upward and onward thro’bright fields 
of ether, 

The starry-eyed angel wended her way, 
Invisible hands—tender and loving— 

Took from the bent back the hump quite 
away. 

And each silvered harp in that brightest of 
regions, 

Sweetly, grandly, exultingly rings, 

For ‘neath the bump— the cruel offender— 

Were beautifully folded two bright, golden 
wings. 




108 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


A LEGEND OF THE LILIES. 


‘Twas midnight, the dark time of shadows, 
The dream-haunted hour aft’ the day, 
When the brooding spirit of Silence 
Lay steeped in her mystical sway; 

And over the world and its dreaming 
The pinions of Sorrow lay. 

See! See! thro’ the ominous darkness 
Bleak Calvary—arid and chill— 

And a cross with its stains of crimson 
On the mount of the “skull crowned” hill. 
And hark! how the night wind’s moaning 
Breaks over the place at will; 

Breaks forth in loud lamentations, 

Then calms its sad voice to a sigh, 

For beneath, in a love watched garden, 

Tne mute heart of Jesus doth lie— 

The tenderest, the gentlest of Saviors, 
Doomed ‘neath the thorn-crown to die. 

When, lo! from the gloom of the sepulchre, 
With a halo of light divine, 

Steps forth the crucified Master 
Into the realms of a life sublime; 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


109 


Steps forth, and the world is illumined 
With the glow that His deeds define. 

And as out from the unsealed portal 
His pale feet touched the damp sod, 

There sprang a spotless Queen Lily 
Wherever the white feet trod; 

Sprang upward the purest of blossoms 
To worship our Savior and God. 

And, as He walked thro’ the shades of 
Gethsemene, 

His wonderful words—now so old— 

Sank deep in the hearts of the lilies, 

‘Till they glowed with a lustre untold; 

Thus breathed into life the pure lilies 
With their hearts of the brightest of gold. 




110 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


“HE IS RISEN.” 

Hark! the joy bells gaily ringing 
Sound the glad news far and wide, 

From the land where grows the laurel 
To the broad Atlantic’s tide. 

Hear their joyous cadence telling 
All the earth the glad refrain, 

“He is risen! He is risen! ” 

From the tomb of blight and pain. 

Take it up, oh choirs of angels, 

Tune your harps with one accord; 

“He is risen!” Christ your Savior— 

Jesus tender, God and Lord. 

Wild the peals of heaventy music 
Breaking from the dome above, 

“Man of Sorrows” now no longer— 

“Light of light” and “God of Love.” 

On the altars bloom the lilies, 

Spotless in their robes of white, 

Perfumed praises sweet ascending 
From their chaliced depths so bright. 

“He is risen!” “He is risen!” 

Floats the chant from Galilee— 

Thorn crowned head, now bright with glory, 
Closing out dark Calvary. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Ill 


STRANDED. 


Quietly on tip toe stealing, 

Past the shrines in memory dear, 
Agonized by depths of feeling 
That no mortal ear shall hear, 

Sad I wander by the billows 
Where, all scattered on the sand, 
Lying low am mg the willows, 

Are my vessels, rudely mann ed. 

Once they left me, fair and stately, 
Sails out-spread like fleecy cloud, 
Freighted down, yea, yea, but lately, 

With a wild, tumultuous crowd- 

Stern ambitions born of dreaming 
High and noble thoughts and true— 
Fondest hopes all brightly gleaming 
With youth’s fairest, bravest hue. 

Proudly sailed they from the harbor, 
Full of life each mast unfurled, 

Out from safest, watched o’er arbor 
Launched they forth into the world. 
Joyously I saw the last sail 
Disappear in depths of blue, 




112 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Till creeping twilight, hushed and pale, 
Shut out all earth from human view. 

Why prolong this wild heart-story? 

Sorrow’s cloud was gath’ring fast, 

And when morn awoke in glory 

Wrecked and broken was each mast; 
Every fond ambition lifeless, 

Every hope all white and still, 

Each bright dream gone out so blitheless 
Dashed by waters dark and chill. 

Ne’er again in joyous gladness 
Will my soul’s sweet music ring, 

All my life is merged in sadness 
That each dawning day will bring; 

So I wander where the pale forms 
Of my brightest fancies lie, 

While I listen to the cruel storms 
That in my heart must die. 



113 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


MOTHER S EYES. 


Like the soft, melting rays of the starlight, 
Beaming brightly afar in the skies, 

Shines ever thro’ memory’s fond magic 
The light of my Mother’s dark eyes. 

Dear eyes with their depths of affection, 

Soft eyes with their unshed tears, 

Hope borrowed of sorrow’s dejection, 

Shines in them thro’ all the long years, 

Illumed with the light of joys passing 
Or with retrospect’s tender recall— 

The glow of their beatiful ardor 
Sheds a dream of repose over all, 

And I read in their depth’s a sweet story 
Of a girlhood so bright and so glad, 

In the dew-laden flush of life’s morning 
Ere in shadows the day dawn was clad. 

And the noontide of life’s broad expansion 
Is mirrored with lights and with shade, 

But the evening’s deep calm sheds a beacon, 
And the brightness to twilight must fade. 






114 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


So daily I learn a sweet lesson, 

Not taught by the earth or the skies, 

But a lesson of faith, hope and duty 

Beaming mild from my Mother's soft eyes. 
******** 

Ah! beautiful eyes with the glimmer 
Of faith’s fondest trust beaming bright, 
Methinks that the watchlight of angels 
Must lessen to gloom in your sight. 

The earth has her circlet of diamonds, 

And gemmed is the blue of the skies, 

But the quenchless fire of devotion 
Burns only in Mother’s loved eyes. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


115 


THE SPARTAN MOTHER. 


The hush of a breathless, midsummer noon 

Lay like perfume steeped flo w’rets in with¬ 
ering bloom, 

And the one freighted zephyr that played 
‘mid the trees, 

Awoke but a murmur but stirred not the 
leaves. 

The pulses of Sparta in lethargy slept, 

And over dim senses forgetfulness crept, 

While the sun-flushed fount of the battle’s' 
red field 

To the great God of nature had in vain not 
appealed. 

When lo! on the silence, deep toned and afar— 

On the noonday’s calm visage a withering 
scar— 

Rose the sound of the enemy’s hurried ad 
vance 

Toward the Spartan’s sheathed scabbard or 
shimmering lance 

And awake for the onset, each warrior bold 

Rose defiant and stern ‘mid the steel clashing 
cold, 




116 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


And each heart from its blood-stained altar 
proclaimed 

“Proud victory ours o’er the foemen 
reclaimed”! 

And stern Spartan Fathers were there in 
their pride, 

And Mothers with mere stripling youths by 
their side, 

And sons with the will of Lycurgus of old 

Lured from the earth of the “law giver’s” 
mold. 

And soon o’er the field rose the din of the 
strife, 

While death closed the eyes late gleaming 
with life, 

‘Till the steeds of the chariot of gold—rashly 
driven— 

Plunged ‘neath the waves of the West— 
strangely riven. 

And, from the curtained, shadowy East, 

From her bondage of darkness each shy star 
released, 

While Heaven’s fair Queen in her vestments of 
light, 

Hid her face in the mists of an aureole bright, 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


lit 


Still the battle—resistless, red dyed and 
aglow— 

Distended each nerve tho’ her pulses beat low, 

And the myriad bright hosts in the heaven’s 
deep blue, 

Kept account of the number the stern Spartan 
slew. 

Till, alas! turned tide of the conquering band. 

And but three-score remained the strife to 
withstand, 

Then back to the city the quick message ran— 

“More hosts to the front here— come toward 
each man”! 

And each tent and pavilion, each cot or rude 
manse, 

Was searched to redeem the Spartan’s dear 
lance, 

And the word reached the chamber where, 
darkened and still, 

A brave Spartan mother lay stricken and ill; 

A woman whose life was the typical mould 

Of the true spirit nature—stern Spartan and 
bold. 

Four sons at the shrine of fair Liberty’s fame* 




118 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Had she gazed on ‘neath death’s dark 
canopied fane; 

And a husband’s glazed eyes had she closed 
to the light 

While pride's sparkling gems flashed in mim¬ 
icry bright, 

But roused by the fervor and stir all about, 

Her sunken eyes followed the forms passing 
out. 

And her palsied frame shook, then the sick¬ 
ening truth, 

In the garb of base mockery, called back her 
lost youth— 

Recalled the past time of her motherhood’s 
pride, 

In the sons of her heart who for Liberty died; 

And resolve—stern, determined, resistless 
as death. 

Flushed the pale features and stirred the 
still breath. 

* * * * 

The “star of the East” looked silently down 

On the dew-washed field with its blood stained 
crown, 

But the ranks of the Spartan with victory 
rang, 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


119 


When the angels of light of another day sang. 

And curiously now in the morn’s waking 
light, 

Did the conquerors, stern, view the death- 
hallowed sight. 

But, see! what is there with wide, sightless 
eyes 

Gazing steadfastly calm at the varying skies— 

With soft, flowing ringlets tossed up by the 
breeze, 

And a heart of whose rapture God now only 
sees? 

‘Tis a frail, girlish form lying there ‘mid the 
strife— 

The sacrificed victim of a mother’s proud life! 
* * * * 

Back, back bear the form to the chamber so 
dim, 

Where a stern Spartan heart beats wildly 
within— 

Muffled tread tell the tale of a last rash 
resolve, 

And the tears of kind Heaven in pity 
absolve. 



120 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


TRAMPLED LILIES. 

Crushed to the earth, fair flow’rets, I found 
thee, 

Trampled and bruised by unpitying feet; 

Far from the love-light that once did sur¬ 
round thee— 

Dying unloved in the dust of the street. 

Lying alone, neath the torrid advances 

Of fiery, mid-summer’s most quenchless 
amours; 

With the cruelest thrusts of the sun’s heated 
lances 

Borne with the patience that faith e’er 
endures. 

Breathing, in silence, a last perfumed sweet¬ 
ness, 

Wasting thy fragrance on cold calloused 
hearts; 

Viewing the snow-flake in beauty and fleetness 

Which charms with its loveliness, ere it 
departs. 

Lying, unnoticed, so pale and so lifeless— 

Bearing the burden of guiltless disgrace— 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


121 


Humbled and crushed with a battle so 
strifeless. 

Drooping beneath the world’s hardened face. 

Bright golden hearts, once fraught with rich 
splendor, 

Cruelly pressed to the sun-fevered street; 

Trod o’er by thousands— oppressed or 
oppressor— 

Who search not for. gems mid the dust at 
their feet. 

But to my cool, shaded bower will I take thee, 
There in a crystal pool thou shalt repose: 

There tell the story thou fain wilt repeat me— 
There whisper gently of all thy sad woes. 

And on a holy shrine I will instate thee, 
There’shall thy sacred hearts old loves 
renew; 

Never again shall the cold world berate thee,- 
Rest will I give thee peaceful and true. 



122 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


SOME DAY. 


Some day the quiet shadows 
That lay across our way, 

Will pass the dark meridian 
That bounds the brighter day, 
And we shall watch them fading, 
Like cloudlets far away, 

Into realms of sunlight 

That from the far-land stray. 

Some day the pain and sorrow 
That dwells within each life, 

Shall die away in silence, 

With tranquil visions rife; 

And peace, most calm and restful, 
Shall cease all inward strife 
In blissful contemplation 
Of holiest delight. 

Some day our wearied spirits 
Shall find that perfect rest 
Which oft abides in silence 
Till our hearts are sad oppressed, 
And then our tear-dimmed visions 
View near a holy guest— 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


123 


Gently to our dull ears whispering 
“God knoweth best.” 

Some day there will come floating, 

From the distant world so blue, 

An angel-guarded message, 

Dear heart, for me and you, 

And we shall read the tidings 
With a faith so grandly new 
For we’ll know that all we’ve dreamed of, 
Love, 

Is True. 




124 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


OUT IN THE STREETS. 


I paused to-day in the city streets 
And gazed with pitying eyes 
On the saddest, most pathetic sight 
E’er seen ‘neath wintry skies. 

A pale-faced woman with her babe 
Fast asleep on her heaving breast, 

And another wee one with his head 
Laid low on the curb to rest, 

Tattered and torn was the shawl she wore, 
And blue her trembling hands, 

But faintly sweet the song she sung 
Of Italy’s sunniest lands. 

And the plaintive sighs of the organette, 
Turned with a ceaseless care, 

Rose sweetly o’er the city’s din 
And died in a wail of despair. 

But the restless feet of the hurrying crowd 
Went rapidly on their way 
With never a thought of the friendless ones, 
Or the shadows that slanting lay. 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


125 


For the long, dark night was coming on, 

And cold blew the winter’s blast, 

And the mother-heart with its weight of woe 
Must cling to its trust til] the last. 

So I left them there as the shades grew dense 
The mother, the babe and the child; 
Homeless ^pd lone in the darkened night, 
While the bitter winds wailed wild. 

And the saddened strains of that plaintive 
voice 

Went with me thro’ all my long way; 

And the tearful eyes of that haunting face 
Will live in my heart for aye. 



126 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


MEMORIAL DAY. 


Hushed is the din of the battle in silence 
unbroken and deep, 

And the warriors brave in the rest of the 
grave 

Are wrapped in the dreamless sl^p. 

But we cover each grass-grown mansion— 
With the clay-cold heart within— 

With the fairest flowers of the fragrant 
bowers 

Where the May day sun hath been, 

And our hearts are filled with a sadness, 

Not born of the glad spring-time, 

But the ghost of an erstwhile gladness 
That mournfully whispers, “Repine!” 

And Memory paints a bright picture, 

Of another May day, just as fair, 

With the sweet, lisping music of breezes 
Playing soft thro’ her golden flecked hair, 
And the ranks of the brave, true defenders 
Plassing out with a step firm and true 
Dressed in the colors immortal—the soft, 
silvery gray, 

Or the blue. 

Some with the rainbow of promise 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


127 


Shining brightly above in their sky, 

Others merged only in sunlight that fell 
from the shadow-land nigh, 

But Time, with his ruthless invasions, 

Has pilfered the gold from the scene, 

And“ Memorial Day” sheds a glimmer 
Like the vanishing mist of a dream. 

Here, ’mid this leafy enclosure, a lowly 
mound lies all alone, 

And the pinions of gentle years passing 
Have tenderly touched the gray stone, 
Brushing the moss of the ages from the 
face of the letters, “Unknown.” 

Ah! ’neath the beautiful verdure, the 
freshness of dewy-kissed sod, 

Whose is the motionless heart notes that 
respond now alone but to God? 

Gone down in the heat of the battle, 

’Midst the fierce, frenzied cry of “To Arms!’ 
Gone down and only the silence 
Can whisper of joys or of harms. 

Perhaps ’tis the heart of a Father, 

With his pulses ebbed low with the tide, 
Who dreamed of his golden haired darlings 
In the last lucid hours of his pride, 

And saw them all clustered, at evening, 



128 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


’Round liis chair in the light’s ruddy glow, 
Or felt their caresses, so tender. 

Like the sun’s gentle kiss on the snow. 

Or ’neath the damp, waving grasses, 

Does another form still slumber on? 

A lover’s so tender and noble—so manly, so 
gentle, so strong,— 

There in the thick of the battle, 

With his life blood ebbing away, 

Did they close the glazed eyes of the stranger 
With the last, dying flush of the day? 

Did they find the sweet face of a loved one 
Next the heart ’neath the jacket of gray? 

A face with the smile of an angel’s— 

His Sweetheart’s so wistfully gay? 

Has Time cast a pitying guerdon 
At the feet of that grief-burdened form, 

Or have the snow tresses of sorrow 
Gone down ’mid the fierce winter storm?. 

Nay! perchance ’tis a mother’s loved darling 
That rests in eternal repose, 

And the midnight hours may have seen a 
bowed form 

Bending low o’er a pale, withered rose, 
Placed by her own hands tender, 

On the blue-coated form, ’mid her woes, 





TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


129 


And returned when God’s angels had 
written, 

On her loved one’s life volume, “The Close.’’ 

Here, here, ’neath the fair skies eternal, 
Find we all—“the Blue and the Gray”— 

The Father, the Husband, the Lover, 

And the pride of a Mother, so gay. 

All calmly awaitiag the summons 
Of a fairer “Memorial Day,” 

When, in the bright raiment of silver 
They will marshal .in faultless array. 

But now, let us scatter the blossoms 
Over each grass-grown grave, 

While fadeless crowns of immortal bloom, 
From the portals of Heaven wave, 

And the redolent breeze of the Spring time 
Will whisper a love song glad, 

And the Autumn winds in their passing 
Will murmur a dirge note sad. 

While the beauteous form of the Summer 
Will place on each love-watched mound 
The fairest chaplet of “heart’s ease” 

In her beauteous kingdom found, 

And the Winter will festoon a garland 
Of lace-work so dainty and fair, 

That the Earth will be robbed of its bleakness 
And the white wings of Peace will be there. 



130 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


I LOVE YOU NINE. 

Dedicated to Camden Kunst. Weston, W. Va. 


I asked a dimpled darling 
With his chubby hand in mine, 

“Do you love me, little sweetheart?” 
And he answe?'ed, ‘ ‘Love you nine. ” 

And I looked within the depths 
Of his trusting, roguish eyes, 

And read the sweet, old story 
Of childhood’s apt replies. 

And the world’s deceitful clamor 
Rose in contrast stern and strong 
As the simple, childlike answer 

Shamed the sham, tumultuous throng. 

Jostled in the city’s wrangle, 

Or in country’s dear retreat, 

Never spoke the voice of candor 
Half so true or half so sweet. 

Ever in the morning’s beauty, 

Or in noontime’s sunny prime, 

Yet again I asked the question 
And was answered, “Love you nine.” 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


131 


And when twilight called the shadows 
From their hiding into line, 

Still I whispered, “Do you love me?” 
And he murmured “Love you nine.” 

Ah! I think afar in Heaven, 

’Round the throne where angels kneel, 
Childish hearts must tell their sorrows, 
And to Jesus all reveal. 

And the Shepherd, ever tender, 

Oft bestows a smile divine, 

Upon little ones who whisper, 

“Jesus dear, I love you nine.” 



132 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


ANSWERED. 


Ah! tender, haunting love-lit eyes, 

Eyes of Heaven’s bright hue, 

Thro’ the long, dark night thou'rt gleaming 
yet 

With a faith so faultlessly true! 

Gazing on me thro’ a mist of tears, 

Filling my soul with dull pain, 

Bringing again the echo of peace 
That dwells in my heart ne’er again. 

And I cry, “Oh! Beloved, forgive me, forget— 
Recall not the passionate tone 
That brought to those eyes the anguish untold 
And taught thy pale lips their first moan! 

“Oh can you, oh will you forgive me?— 

And wildly my eye-lids I press— 

While up from the clustering daisies 
Comes faintly an answering “yes.” 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


133 


WHITE VIOLETS 

By the brookside, ’mong the grasses, 
Pale and pure, and faintly sweet, 
Myriad violets in their beauty, 

Cluster there beneath our feet. 

Eagerly we wait their coming— 
Priceless gifts of God’s own hand, 
Decked in robes of virgin beauty, — 
White-robed queens of Heaven’s band. 

Hiding, like the lowliest wild rose, 
Drooping with each breeze anew, 
Claiming from twilight’s bounty, 

A modest veil of filmy dew. 

How like lives of Christian beauty. 

Living from the world apart, 

Bravely true to love and duty, 

Giving joy to every heart. 

Sweeter than the June-time roses, 

Fairer than the lilies pale, 

Rivaling the “heart’s ease’' pansies, 
Purer then the snow drop frail. 




134 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Sweet, pale flowerets, meek and lowly— 
Golden-hearted friends so dear— 

Lead us by Thy sweet example 

Through this world so dark and drear. 

And thy silent, perfumed message, 
Rising like a voiceless prayer, 

Shall in coming years sustain us, 

'And guide our steps to regions fair. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


135 


WEARY. 

Weary of life and its burdens, 

Weary of hopes unattained, 

Weary of years of repining, 

Weary of joys unrefrained, 

Weary of blossoms once fragrant 
Now crushed and dead at my feet, 

Weary of songs of great gladness 
Once to my soul tuned complete. 

Weary of rose-tipped fancies, 

Fading in mists far away; 

Weary of promising sunsets 
Shrouding the pall of the day; 

Weary of soft, sighing breezes’ 

Lisping their cadence of love; 

Weary of bird notes so thrilling 
That died in the cloud-land above. 

Weary the merciless torture 
Of cold, cruel words on my heart; 

Weary the light, joyous laughter 

That forms from my world a whole part; 

Longing for love that has vanished, 

Like mists at the rise of the day; 



136 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Longing for bright dream visions 
Now ebbing and flowing away. 

Longing for words of sweet comfort 
That whisper “sad heart, be thou still,” 
Longing for warmth, peace and love light, 
That follow the soul’s bitter chill; 

But at last shall come ‘ ‘rest for the weary, ” 
At last shall come “peace to the soul,” 
And the heart that on earth has been bittered 
Shall attain its measureless goal. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


137 


MOREEN. 


Won’t you kiss me, little Sweet Heart, 
Dear Moreen? 

Kiss me once so sweetly, darling, 

Where the star-light bright doth gleam? 

I have loved thee ,oh so fondly, 

Sweet Moreen, 

Loved thee,—dreaming of thee ever 
Thro’ the sunset’s golden sheen; 

Tell me, don’t you love me, 

Fair Moreen? 

Oh! how cold that glance, and cruel, 

Hard Moreen! 

Turning on me in derision 

’Neath the moonlight’s silvery dream. 

Let me clasp your dimpled fingers, 

Gay Moreen— 

Not this one poor boon to grant me? 

Well, I ween! 

And the laughter that pealed backward 
As the wee feet reached the door, 

Taught me girls could be coquettish 
Tho’ their age be only four. 




138 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


THE BROOKLET 

I hear the rippling murmur of the waters, 

As in the olden time they used to play, 

Beneath the stars and silvery sheen of even, 

Or noontime brillanceof the summer’s day, 

And once again thro’ memory’s green 
expanses 

The sweet voiced songsters trill their 
plaintive lay— 

Responsive to the wordless symphony of 
nature 

Lured from the harp where fairy fingers 
stray. 

On, on, thro’ shaded dells and peaceful, 
dreaming valleys, 

The brooklet flees with light, fantastic 
tread, 

Sweetly laughing o’er the pebbled, grassy 
beeches, 

Or creeping, noiseless, past the “city of 
the dead.” 

And in her sparkling eyes I see the image 

Of a dear loved form that long ago hath fled, 

And tears embalm the consecrated vision, 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


139 


And Memory weeps beside the seraph- 
guarded bed. 

And oft upon the brooklet’s peaceful bosom— 
In quiet moods when dreams her eyelids 
press— 

I’ve watched the scattered leaves of Autumn 
falling, 

Gathered to her heart with mute caress, 

And when the chilling breath of frenzied winter 
Her laughter-loving moods would fain 
repress, 

I’ve heard, beneath th§ ice-bound portals of 
of her cloister. 

Her sweet voice trill the vesper hymn of 
love’s redress. 



140 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


TO GERTRUDE. 


The sad, plaintive voice of October 
Is sighing its lone song of grief, 

Whilst the lisping murmur of breezes 
Whisper vain of glad Springtime’s relief— 
Yet I hear ’mid the musical medley, 

That fills the whole air with its plea, 

One name that love’s fetters have linkened 
Securely and firm unto me. 

’Tis Gertrude- dear name of a loved one— 
Enshrined by the angels above 
In a sanctum of true heart’s devotion, 

And locked with the gold key of love. 

A name that the minstrels and sages 
Of the long silenced, echoless past, 

In lyrical notes would have warbled 
In praise and esteem to the last. 

Gertrude! fair gem of soft lustre— 

In womanhood’s sphere a bright star— 
Illumining the pathway of others, 

Yet shining resplendent afar! 

With a heart in whose depths is oft echoed 
Humility’s faith enshrined prayer, 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


141 


And a soul like the spotless queen lily 

Filled with bright golden deeds gleaming 
fair. 

Downcast eyes like the blue skies of April, 
Filled oft with the pearl drops of pain 
For the desert Sahara of others, 

Stretching far o’er a flowerless plain, 

And wee, fragile hands that in pity 
Gently close over fever dimmed eyes, 

Like the touch of the fairest rose petals— 
Earth pressed ’neath the star lighted skies. 

Dear Heart, when the silence of ages 
Is waked by the harp strings above, 

And the shores of the beautiful river 
Are thronged with the forms that we love! 

I shall stoop where the bright, sparkling 
waters 

Reflect all our past in a gleam, 

And your face will smile in its beauty 
Like the hallowed return of a dream. 



142 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


AS THE OLD YEAR PASSED BY. 

Far away in city steeples rang the New 
Year’s joyous chime, 

And the eyes of fortune’s fair ones 
Watched the Old Year’s slow decline 
‘Mid the glow of brilliant ball room, 

Or neath fretted domes of light, 

Where the flash of gilt and tinsel 
Wreathed the stage in splendor bright. 

But beyond the city limits, 

Where in silence, hushed and still, 
Towered the sombre, oaken sentinel 
By the voiceless, frozen rill, 

One pale watcher knew the Old Year 
Passed her by with muffled tread, 

By the heart throbs of her anguish, 

And the prayers her lips had said. 

Note the sunken eyes, and tear drops 
Coursing down the shrivelled face, 

See the locks of snowy tresses 
With the olden gleam in trace. 

Catch a glimpse of trembling figure 
In the tattered garments old— 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


14a 


Shivering, anguished, bowed with sorrow 
In the fireless cot and cold. 

Then upon the hush of midnight, 

When the clock the hour had told, 

Hear the piteous plea of anguish 
For the lamb without the fold. 
“Heavenly Father, Gracious Master, 
Thou who ‘notest the sparrow's fall, ’ 
Hear my heartfelt, lone petition, 

Hearken, yet, my humble call! 

“Out within the darkest jungle 
Of the soul’s infested way, 

Veiled beneath the midnight darkness, 
Doth my child’s weak footsteps stray, 
And to Thee, whose eyes have witnessed 
One pale form upon the cross— 
Bleeding ‘neath a thousand wound prints, 
Weak from precious blood a loss— 

“Come I with my human anguish, 
Groping in grief’s frenzied way, 
Fainting ‘neath the weight of sorrow, 
Lighted with no cheering ray; 

Guide him to me, waiting lonely 
For the coming of ids feet, 



144 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Homeward bring my wayward darling 
Ere the midnight shadows fleet.'’ 

Then with pain the tottering figure 
Rose from off her trembling knees, 
And one only eye, in pity, 

All her surging sorrow sees; 

While, without, the night-wind moaning, 
Sighs a dirge to her despair, 

And within her soul’s dark chambers 
Gleams no promised refuge fair. 

Hark! a sound upon the silence— 
Anguished heart, be still and wait,— 
’Tis the night-wind’s cruel jesting 
With the latchless garden gate; 

Poor, tired eyes cease now the struggle 
The rayless, midnight gloom to read, 
Thro’ the shivering, broken glasses, 
Where the night seems dense indeed 

Back within the chamber groping, 

By the glowless hearth, alone, 

Once again a sad petition 

Finds its way to Heaven’s throne; 
Then again the awful silence, 

Save the trustful clock’s advance 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


145 


Thro’ its round of circuit ticking 
Past the Old Year’s lifeless trance. 

When—Oh fond Hope, long imprisoned! 

Came a step upon the hold, 

And a reeling form advancing 
Staggered in with aspect bold. 

Oh! heartless Fate unfettered; 

Oh! life’s most cruel dream; 

Oh! Mother heart so trusting; 

Oh! joy’s swift, maelstrom stream! 

There, there with bloated features, 

And eyes with wine’s red glow, 

With tottering steps unsteady, 

And mind confused and slow, 

Stood the idol of her day dreams, 

The star of all life’s night— 

A mother’s cherished darling, 

Immersed in liquor’s blight. 

• 

One step her foot advances, 

One word her lips breathe low, 

Then the broken spirit wavers, 

And the voice is full of woe— 

“Oh, Jamie! long I’ve waited, 

And my heart can know no rest, 



146 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


'Till your head is safely cradled 
On mother’s faithful breast, 

“Come, close your eyes, my darling, 

And softly, sweetly low, 

Let me sing the twilight medley 
That I sung so long ago;” 

And with loving, fond compassion, 

‘Round his neck with tender charm, 

Shrivelled, helpless, weak and clinging, 
Trustfully was clasped each arm. 

And then—oh! beauteous angels, 

Shroud the deed with pitying tears— 

A blow—a shriek—a stagger— 

And the blackness of drifting years. 

A pale, still form in the darkness 
Of the cheerlessly drear domain, 

And a son in the height of his frenzy 
Unconscious her moanings of pain. 

Struck down by the hand she had nestled 
Thro’ infancy’s fleet, helpless years; 

Struck down by the hand she had worshipped, 
And hallowed with fond, loving tears. 

“Oh, God” !—and the flashlight of reason 
Illumined the wine-crazed brain— 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


147 


“Oh, mother! so trusting and loving, 
Whisper gently my name oitce again. 

But an echoless calm came in answer,— 
One tremor and she was at rest— 

A flash in the watches of midnight, 

A weapon to wild temples pressed— 

A rustle of wings, in the entry, 

A glorious light streaming in, 

One motionless figure uplifted, 

One steeped in the bondage of sin. 

One carried by loving hands tender 
To the beautiful home of the blest; 
One merged in the thralldom of anguish 
In the gloom of the soul’s unrest. 



148 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


OPEN PORTALS. 

He stood where the night wind heartless, 
Strove hardest to wage fury wild— 

This man with his woe-worn features, 

And eyes half pleading, half mild. 

“Maybe here,” and the thin lips trembled 
As they strove to intone a surmise, 

“They’ll give me a crust from their table, 
And a shelter from night’s cruel skies.” 

And he peeped thro’ the half drawn shutters 
At the warmth and the light within, 

Then pulled at the massive iron knocker 
And withdrew to the shadow again. 

And in luxury’s robe and soft slippers, 

The lord of the manse arose, 

And stepped from the glow of his study, 

To the stoop with its wind and its snows. 

And here on the white locks before him, 

His eyes fell in artful surprise, 

And only a moment he lingered 
To list to his queries’ replies. 

“Thought you’d find shelter in here, sir? 

Ha! Ha! that’s a good one, I vow; 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


149 


There’s the street, and far onward the prison,— 
Such advice from my wealth I’ll allow.” 

And the massive door swung on its hinges, 
And the lone man was left to the night, 
With no aspect of tenderest feeling 
To ward off the world’s cruel blight. 


But his dimmed eyes discerned not far onward, 
The glow of another fireside; 

And Hope from Discouragement’s reaoing 
Gleaned a lesson of faith ne’er denied. 

And again the numbed hands sought the 
knocker, 

But the footman so grand— nobly taught— 
Frowned scornfully on the bent figure, 

Nor his sad, nightly mission e’er sought. 

And, once again to the pavement 
Out ’neath the wintry skies— 

Earth’s lonely pilgrim strolled onward, 

While tears, bitter tears, filled his eyes. 

«.‘Surely there,” and his sad gaze was 
fastened 

On a mansion of six stories bright, 





150 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


I may creep to an innermost chamber 
And rest ’till the morning’s fair light. ” 

But, alas! for bis poor heart’s reason, 

For the city’s elite was within, 

And music, and song, and glad laughter 
Proved not the right passports for him. 

But a strain, as of angel choirs singing, 

Broke over his senses complete, 

Add there—just beyond—were wide portals, 
And a soft light was over the street. 

And bis tottering steps hastened onward— 
His numbed frame felt the warm glow— 

And his pale lips tremblingly faltered, 
“Truly, here, they’ll not say me no.” 

And as softly he slipped thro’ the portals, 

On the snow locks was placed a bright 
crown, 

And the rush of a myriad fair pinions 
Named the city of gold-paved renown. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


151 


GOOD BYE. 

‘‘Good Bye!” In the chill of the twilight, 
with the rising September moon 
Flooding the world with a beauty that 
died in the midnight of gloom, 

Fell the words on the hushed breath of even, 
like Delphian rites whispered low, 

And only one heart knew the burden that 
stifled all else in its woe. 

“Good Bye!” and the fair head was lowered, 
and the soft eyes were filled with sad 
tears,— 

Kind Heaven in pity look downward, for 
the good bye meant parting for years. 

Did a vision of heart’s desolation loom out 
from the Future’s dark shores? 

Did a spectre creep noislessly onward-, 

And in Sorrow’s chill wave dip the oars 
That, tipped with the light of youth’s spring¬ 
time, 

Lay close to the lilies rich stores? 

“Good Bye!” Once again in the silence 
Came the words with a shudder of pain, 

For the lover’s swift view of the morrow 
Saw the spectral form, too, o’er the main. 



152 


TWILIGHT REVEHIEvS. 


“Good Bye!” and the night winds arisen 
Moaned feebly an echoed refrain; 

“Good Bye!” and a lone bird in passing 
Sadly warbled, “Oh, never again.” 

“Good Bye!” By the heart throbs of sorrow 
Oft are counted sweet seconds of joy, 

And the grief that awakes with the morrow 
Is the'traitor.that stoops to destroy. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


153 


IF I HAD KNOWN. 

If I had known how one kind word, 

One wee response of mine, 

Had filled her trusting, little heart 
With joy almost sublime; 

Would I have scorned the mute appeal, 

The silent hand press given, 

The quiet little chat at home— 

That foretaste sweet of Heaven? 

Ah, true it is we never miss the ecstacy of 
song, 

That from the bright canary’s cage 
Trills gaily all day long, 

Till morning’s light to us reveals 
A silent heap of gold, 

With all that rapturous harmony 
Hushed in the wee throat cold. 

Nor did I miss the little form, 

That with its own shy grace, 

Passed softly ’bout our little home, 

Nor roamed from place to place; 

Till one sad day a plaintive note 
Broke from the'saddened breast, 

And my wee bird, on weary wing, 

Left forever the dear home nest. 



154 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


“ASLEEP IN JESUS.” 

(In Loving Memory of L. E. H.) 

“Asleep in Jesus.” Sweetly resting 
After weeks of wearied pain, 

Hearing in her dreamless slumber 
Whisperings of £lad refrain. 

Resting in the arms of Jesus, 

On her Savior’s sacred breast, 
List’ning to His loved assurance, 

“Come to Me and be at rest.” 

Patiently and long in silence, 

With no murmuring of despair, 

Did her soul take up its burden 
And redeem itself in prayer. 

Till, exultant and triumphant, 

Came the summons grandly sweet, 
“Thou hast won the crown eternal, 

Find thy rest at Jesus’ feet.” 

In the silence of the midnight, 

Watched by loved ones fond and true, 
Came the angels’ softest whisper, 

“We are waiting, Love, for you.” 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


155 


And the closed eyes told the watchers 
That the silent stars of night, 

Shining in their tranquil beauty, 

Would illume the spirit’s flight. 

That the pearly gates of Heaven 
Gently then were swinging fro, 

Waiting to close out the darkness 
Of this world of bitter woe, 

Guarded by an angel seraph, 

With his holy, love-lit eyes, 

Pausing there to touch the harp strings- 
In a welcome to the skies. 

And a long and last ‘‘forever” 

Echoed thro' each anguished heart, 

When the awful calm that followed 
Bade bright visions to depart. 

Would the sunlight on the morrow 
Shine as brightly as of yore? 

Could the world go on as ever 

When our loved one was no more? 

Then, ah then, the sweet assurance 
That our dear one was at rest, 



156 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


While we our weary way must tread 
Ere numbered with the blest. 

And the sunshine broke in gladness— 
Broke in brightest, golden gleams,— 
And fair Hope spread out her pinions 
O’er the desert of our dreams. 

For we know that she is waiting 
Close beside the crystal sea, 

And that in the bright' hereafter 
There united we shall be. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


157 


RAY. 

Under the silent stars resting serenely— 
Beauteous vision of girlhood’s fair bloom; 

Softest of azure eyes veiled from us ever, 
Peacefully closed in the dusk of the tomb. 

Gone from our sight ere the world and its 
clamors 

Had furrowed the heart in its youthful 
spring time; 

Gone like the roses that taught us to love 
them, 

Then died in the glow of the gladsome June 
time, 

Leaving the memory of sweetness and beauty 
Fondly enshrined on the altar of love,— 

Dearest dream visions that ever remind us 
Of the tender-eyed one in the bright world 
above. 

Glad were the fleeting years that passed 
gaily o’er her, 

Distilling their blessings in bright, golden 
showers, 



158 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


As the rain drops of Heaven in love cnristen 
fondly 

The sweetest and fairest of summer’s loved 
flowers. 

Hope was the beacon that beckoned her 
onward— 

No ripple of sorrow pervaded life’s sea— 

Only the calmness of waves that were waiting 

The tide that flowed outward, dear Savior, 
to Thee. 

Joyous and glad were the strains of life’s 
music 

That found a response in her own happy 
heart; 

Ah! well do we know that safe with her Jesus 

She echoes, with angels, His praises in part. 

In the hush of the dawn that broke ever so 
grandly, 

In the beautiful East with its waves of 
bright gold, 

God sent for our darling and guiding her 
fondly, 

Bore her safe home to a place in His fold. 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


159 


There on the golden shore she will await us, 
There will her harp strings whisper the 
way 

O’er the broad river that bounds our glad 
entrance 

Into the realms of Heaven’s bright day. 



160 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


GRANDMOTHER’S VALENTINE. 

She sat where the gathering twilight, 

The softening shadows of day, 

Fell round her with ominous silence, 

And the margins of Time swept away. 

In her tremulous hands a blurred paper, 

In her soul hallowed peace most divine, 
Brought back by the golden heart secrets 
Of Grandmother’s Valentine. 

Once again thro’ the vistas of silence, 

Where long pulsed the fount of warm life, 
Trilled the music of other days’ gladness, 
With a surcease of love ever rife; 

And a voice—kindest, truest, most tender, — 
To her heart sang a song yet sublime, 

As tears blurred the fond, loving message 
Of Grandmother’s Valentine. 

And a prayer on the hush of the evening 
Went up to the White Throne above, 
Where knelt in his saintly apparel 
The idol of Grandmother’s love; 

And an answer he sent to his darling, 

As she sat in the twilight’s soft prime, 
And together they read the old story 
In Grandmother’s Valentine. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


161 


AS I FORGIVE YOU. 

Whisper you love me, my darling, 

My darling with eyes of soft blue; 

Whisper you love and forgive me, 

Forgive me as I forgive you. 

Turn not away in your anger, 

Scoffing my love and my pain; 

Let the sunshine of smiles coming after; 

Be the herald of calm after rain. 

Whisper, oh! whisper, you love me, 

Tell me that you will be true; 

And forgive me, my darling, my loved one,— 
Forgive me as I forgive you. 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


3l62 


FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. 

\The faithful stars were beaming clear and si¬ 
lent far away, 

.And the snowflakes brightly gleaming spar¬ 
kled ’neath their silvered ray, 

CJold and sullen, sad and dreary, had the hap¬ 
less form of Day 

Been enveloped in dark shadows and in 
silence laid away, 

"Then with footsteps, slow and stealthy, came 
the sombre Night apace, 

And with grave, funeral splendor, looked 
upon the pale dead face— 

Booked and saw the faded traces of a visage 
once so fair, 

Seared and furrowed now with sorrow and 
the lasting blight of care— 

Tk>r the Day’s bright dawn of beauty had 
beheld Hope’s fairest shrines 
Wreathed about with bright immortelles 
which the sunlight ever twines, 

But the closing range of -shadows shutting 
out forevermore 

All that transient dream of beauty saw but 
starlight’s mild galore. 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


163 


And the stars looked down in silence upon 
proud and stately Rome, 

With her thousand towering arches and her 
one imperial throne, 

Looked upon the vast arena, quivering with 
a thousand lights, 

Madly flashing on a visage seared by pas¬ 
sion’s quenchless blights— 

Nero’s face with fierce contortions robbing it 
of human guise 

Sternly playing o’er each feature—sunken 
cheeks and hollow eyes— 

Then a burst of wildest music fell upon the 
midnight air, 

And of all that sea of faces only one paled 
with despair. 

Proud uplifted banners waving tossed their 
silken folds on high, 

And from chambers not far distant came one 
lone, despairing cry— 

’Twas a human voice of anguish—childlike, 
clear, and softly sweet— 

Then in chains a fair form entered, passing 
near stern Nero’s feet. 

Like a reed by zephyrs wafted swayed the 
lithe and girlish form. 



164 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


And her hair in rich profusion shed its gold 
in radiance warm. 

Soft, mild eyes, like angels’ watch-lights, 
looked from out the golden bower, 

And her spotless garments, trailing, rivalled 
earth’s unsullied flower, 

And a hush fell on the concourse, every 
heart beat loud and wild, 

Each impassioned gaze was fastened on the 
doomed, heroic child, 

And in harsh, discordant accents, fell the 
words like thunder’s roar, 

“Let the beasts be now unloosened—open 
wide the iron-bound door!” 

Then, like pent up rage of demons, smoul¬ 
dering ’neath volcanic fire, 

Rose the awful cry of lions, giving place to 
wildest ire, 

Yet, like Hope’s embowered statue, blazoned 
round with faith’s fond trust, 

Stood the martyr-girl, unflinching, while the 
lock turned in its rust. 

Then the air was filled with shouting, fol¬ 
lowed by a deathless calm, 

That in awe and deep intentness seemed an 
echoed, death-bed psalm, 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


16S 


And foaming, and roaring, and wild of eye, 
pausing only for fury anew, 

Rushed the mighty kings of the forest, with 
never a backward view— 

On, on, toward the pale-faced martyr—one 
moment and all will be past— 

When into the mighty arena sprang a boyish 
form, breathless and fast, 

And the fair, frail form of the 'maiden was 
clasped in her lover’s strong arm, 

While his mocking smile of defiance seemed 

a subterfuge safe from all harm. 
******* 

Over the towers of reeking Rome the light of 
the morn arose, 

But hushed was the v”ast arena’s din, and the 
revellers slept in repose, 

While a blood-red spot in the haunted space, 
staining the golden sand, 

Told the silent tale of two [young lives 
crowned ’mid the martyred band. 



166 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


PAPA’S GOD. 

(Dedicated to Little Elizabeth Burkhardt, Weston, W. Va.} 

Golden Locks had heard her papa, 

From the chancel vast and grand, 

Plead for blessings from his Savior 
On our own benighted land, 

And had listened when at even, 

In the sheltered nook of home. 

He had spoken of the loved One, 

Where the radiant spirits roam. 

So, one night, when length’ning shadows 
Told the wee one she must rest, 

And a drowsy, plaintive chirping 
Came from out each downy nest, 

Mama called her blue-eyed darling— 
Whispering of the “Land of Nod”— 

But the baby quick responded, 

“Let me first see papa’s God.” 

Then to the window, where, in beauty, 

The wondrous moonlight flooded in, 
Slowly trudged the little figure— 
Angel-watched and free from sin— 

And the bright eyes sought the heavens, 

On whose streets the saints have trod, 

And from out whose fairest limits 
Looked in love dear “Papa’s God.” 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


1637 


JOHNNY'S LAMENT. 

Mama had gone to the city, 

Bedecked in fashion’s array, 

And baby looked wistfully.outward, 

As the carriage rolled grandly away: 

But he manfully wiped from his lashes, 

The tears that stole stealthily there, 

And crept from the glittering window, 

Down the richly carpeted stair. 

Then afar o’er^the stately drive-way, 

Onward the sturdy limbs trod, 

Till the curly head knelt-by a hamper. 
Vine-thatched on the verdure-clad sod, 

And six pairs of eyes peered so brightly 
Prom the depths of the sweet scented hay, 
That the baby’s o’er burdened‘heart opened! 
To the frolicsome puppies at play; 

And this was the sad, plaintive story,. 

To which the downy balls listened that dayx: 
“My mama’s don off to the city, 

All fixed in her nice shinin’,dress; 

An’ she wouldn’t even ’low me to hug her^ 
For fear that her wuffl.es I’d press. 

She wasn’t my every-day mamma, 

An’ I don’t like ner fixed up so fine; 




168 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


So I’se come to live now wif you, puppies, 
Live wif you, and stay all ze time. 

Your mamma is always so lovin’, 

An’ she never puts on a fine dress, 

An’ I can love her, and pet her, and pat her, 
Whenever I want to, I dess.” 

So Johnny took up his abiding, 

Snuggled close to “Silky’s” fond breast, 

And there mamma found her wee darling, 
Fast asleep in the puppies’ snug nest. 




TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


169 


TO MOUNT DE CHANTAL. 

(Upon the Celebration of her Golden Jubilee.) 

Proudly, with turrets uplifted 
Toward the limitless blue of the skies, 
Thou’rt towering, oh home of the Muses, 
Secure from the world and its sighs— 

In the heart of the greenest of valleys, 
Clasped fondly by star-lit hills, 

And soothed by the voice of the sirens 
That warble in sun-kissed rills. 

Long years have you stood, mighty monarch, 
In your regal renown and your pride, 

And your fame has been carried far onward, 
By the drifting of Time’s limpid tide, 

Till far o’er tjie surging Atlantic, 

’Mid the paeans of learning and song, 

The light of your own erudition 
Burns brightly among the gay throng. 

Bravely out from your classic enclosures, 
With the charm of the Convent’s shy grace, 
How many fair daughters have wandered 
To enter the world’s mad’ning race. 

And there has come with the rustle of pinions, 
That tells of the fleeting of Time, 



170 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Sweet echoes of fame that have reached some 
Who left you in girlhood’s fair prime. 

Like music, whose softest vibration, 

In our hearts awakes harmonies sweet, 

You have list to their rapturous praises 
’Till your soul with delight welled complete* 
And proudly thj laurels of honor 

Have you lain on your altars of pride, 
Tenderly guarded and cherished 

By the vigils of Learning’s fair bride. 

So the years have passed trauquilly onward* 
Each one but a bright golden link, 

Till now in their jewelled completeness 
They flash on the wave-washed brink 
Of retrospect’s beautiful river, 

Where glide the fair barques of our past. 
Peopled with sweetest dream faces 
And angel forms true to the last. 

Fifty years, oh noblest of Convents! 

Have you heard thro’ your classical halls, 
The ripple of musical laughter 
Vibrating from foothold to walls. 

Oh, where are they all—whisper gently— 
The girls of the long, long ago? 



TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


171 


Will they gather again at the Convent 
’Mid the June*time’s most radiant glow? 

Nay, nay; like the languorous lily 
That hath folded its petals to rest, 

Some of the girls of the olden time 
Have peacefully clasped o’er their breast 
The beautiful hands that in life’s brief span, 
Knew only brave actions of love— 

Folded together, spotlessly pure, 

Like the snow-white wings of a dove. 

And some of the blithest of maidens, 

That trilled thro’ the corridors long, 

Have placed but a minor crescendo 
On the gleeful notes of their song, 

And hidden those tresses of auburn, 

Or locks of unburnished gold, 

’Neath the sacred veil of the cloister, 
Drooping in saintly fold. 

Others have knelt at the altar 

Where the casket of love gleams bright, 
And clasped o’er their heart’s warm throbbing 
The gem of their soul’s delight. 

But what of the noble Sisters 
Who guided those untaught feet? 



172 


TWILIGHT REVERIES. 


Hath the years left their ranks unbroken 
In their onward passage so fleet? 

Ah! go to the shaded Chapel 
Where the saintly forms bend low 
In silent adoration 

Of the thorn-crowned head of woe. 

And look in vain for the faces 
Of those who have “gone before:” 

Whose lips drop now their pearls of prayer 
On the brink of the sunset shore. 

But tho’ many the ties that are severed, 

There will come ’mid the raptures of June 
A throng to the Convent’s wide portals 
With loyal hearts gaily in tune, 

And may the glad and joyous reunion 
Be as bright as a gilded dream, 

With the fairest gems of fond memory 
Filagreed closely between. 

While out from the heart of the roses 
Will come a soft-whispered refrain, 

That will lift from our lives the burden 
Of the weight of our soul’s dull pain; 

And breathe of another reunion— 

Unbroken beyond the blue sea— 

When the voices of angels will sweetly blend 
In a song of the “Gold Jubilee.” 





Pag*. 

Beautiful Spirit. 5 

Destiny. 10 

The Future. 11 

Vanished Joys. 13 

Christmas Eve. 15 

Heart’s Ease. 20 

Dinah. 23 

Passing Days. 28 

Judge Not. 30 

Little Things. 32 

June Time. 34 

In the Valley. 36 

Easter Lilies. 38 

Waiting.. . 43 

Only a Note From Baby. 46 

An Angel of Mercy. 60 

The Convent Chapel. 54 




















INDEX. 


Little Shoes. 56 

Above the Stars There is Rest . 59 

Infidelity.. 64 

Baby’s Plea. 67 

Retrospection. 69 

Sweet Reveries. 76 

After a While. 80 

Love’s Sorrow. 82 

Wait Not. 86 

To Baby Sister.. 89 

Old Letters . 91 

At Last. 94 

The City Waif. 97 

Homeward Bound. 99 

Dream Song. 100 

The First Christmas Morn. 103 

Golden Wing . 105 

A Legend of the Lilies. . 108 

Stranded. Ill 

Mother’s Eyes.. 113 

The Spartan Mother. 116 

Trampled Lilies.. 120 

Some Day.. 122 

Out in the Streets. 124 

Memorial Day. 126 

I Love You Nine. 130 

Answered.132 

White Violets.. 133 

Weary. 135 

Moreen. 137 

The Brooklet. 138 



































INDEX. 


To Gertrude . 140 

As the Old Year Passed By. 142 

Open Portals . 148 

Good Bye. 151 

If I Had Known. 153 

Asleep in Jesus. 154 

Bay. 157 

Grandmother’s Valentine.160 

As I Forgive You.161 

Faithful Unto Death. 162 

Papa’s God. 166 

Johnny’s Lament. 167 

To Mount De Chantal. 160 


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,„, bookbinding 

; n Crantville, Pa 
IHI Nov-Dec 1988 I 

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